


The Magisterium: Aria of Darkness

by littleman666



Category: Magisterium Series - Holly Black & Cassandra Clare
Genre: Also just all the castlevanias combined AU (minus the anime), Belmonts, Call is officially invincible, I dunno how to write so apologies in advance, I have now read the last book, I know hes not best dad, I want Call and Alastair to have a good relationship, I wish more people wrote about their father-son relationship, Its gonna take a million years, Lowkey Aria of Sorrow AU, M/M, Probably ooc, Relationships may be added, Vampires, Videogames are good, and honestly wished I had not, but still ;-;, please dont hate me, slow-burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 56,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24504034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleman666/pseuds/littleman666
Summary: When Callum finds himself trapped inside a solar-eclipse, his life seems threatened by a lot more than school bullies. With the help of his newfound allies, Call is finally able to return to his home. Yet upon his return, Call finds things are not as he left them...orCastlevania: Aria of Sorrow AU, no previous knowledge is required to read this, but the game is great!
Relationships: Callum Hunt/Aaron Stewart
Comments: 99
Kudos: 65





	1. Solar Eclipse

**Author's Note:**

> Im not good at writing but this place needs more fan fiction and I just cleared both Sorrow games, so you guys get this... I hope its not horrible.
> 
> Also if any of you do happen to pick up the games, don't follow the weapon choice/armour stuff I mention because I just picked what suited Call and its not actually best weapon or armour or anything!!
> 
> EDIT: I changed the first chapter a bit, sorry if you read the first version, not saying this version is amazing but it was better than that crap ^^;;; Also I dunno what happened to my formatting in the 1st chapter but it is dead and flying in the wind

Call kicked at the dirt as he limped across the uneven ground. He didn't know what caused bullies to flock to him, and he couldn't bring himself to care either. That’s what he told himself anyway. Afterall it wasn't like he was a target with his leg or anything. His dad never noticed the bruises anyway so neither should he. Unconsciously, Call settled further into his black hoodie and began his long trek back home. 

He only belatedly realized his after-school ‘beat-up’ had taken up quite a few hours and the autumnal sun was already lowering itself by the time of his return. He briefly pondered if his dad even realized this, but was quickly distracted as Havoc excitedly greeted him. The heavy wolf easily sent the young boy crashing to the floor, covering his face with enough kisses to brighten even Call’s black mood. He felt thankful for the distraction.

“Oh right, I gotta take you out to walk…” Call mumbled to himself, glancing at the darkening skies, “Guess we’ll have to be quick, huh Havoc?” the dog barked in response excitedly.

Rising to his feet seemed easy with Havoc there, and Call dumped his backpack off in a dark corner. He would think about his homework later.

He then quickly ran into their kitchen for a bag of chips, not noticing his father emerging from the dimly lit corridor that housed both of their rooms, and his father’s precious garage. It really wasn't creepy at all.

“Call, your home awfully late today…” Alastair said. 

Call immediately recognized the tense tone his father was speaking in, as it was as rare as it was distinguishable, and it was only one of the factors that contributed to the bizarreness of the entire situation. While 'bizarre' and 'Alistair' could usually fit in the same sentence easily, Call couldn't help but feel the situation press on him more. Alistair was acting weird in a 'normal' kind of way. And he was most definitely not a normal dad.

To start, his father almost never personally greeted him when he got home, mostly sticking to calling out to him from wherever his current antique obsession was within their tiny house. Secondly, Call had been home far later than the current six o’clock their clock displayed, and Alastair hadn't commented then. 

“Uh yeah…” Call responded lamely, his witty comebacks stalled in favor of understanding the current situation, “Dad, is there something wrong?”

Alastair shifted from foot to foot, wringing his hands and gazing about before finally settling his gaze on the antique clock that was ticking away. Call swore the awkward tension was so thick, he might choke.

“How about we have family movie night?” Alistair offered. 

Call couldn't believe his dad was torn up over something as trivial as that, _but_ that didn't mean he was deterred from the idea of a little father-son time. 

“Sure, just lemme’ take Havoc out for a dump, then-”

Alastair interrupted, “Call, it's dark out now, just take it out tomorrow.”

“Havoc’s a _him_ and he can’t just hold his poo-”

This time Call wasn't interrupted by Alastair, but by Havoc himself. The dog abruptly began to pace and then began to bark before dashing outside, seemingly mad. As Havoc bolted, Call didn't think twice before calling his name and dashing right after him. Alastair seemed to have contrary ideas to both boy and dog, and held Callum’s arm with an iron grip. 

“Call, you cannot go outside!” his father ordered severely, his silver eyes seemed pleading.

Call didn't know why exactly his father told him to stay. He had been acting awfully weird for the whole evening. Maybe the kids at school were right, maybe both father and son were losing it.

Call scoffed at his own thoughts, something had to be seriously wrong with him if he was believing _those_ kids.

“Let go of me dad! We have to go find Havoc!” Call cried.

"Call you can’t-!”

Throwing off his signature hoodie allowed Call to dislodge his father for just a single moment. And he didn't waste it either, creating as much distance as he could manage before shouting to his father, 

“Don't worry dad, I’ll be back with Havoc in no time!”

Alastair stared at Call’s empty hoodie in horror, his gaze seemed unfocused and his hands seemed to be shaking.

“It's already begun…” Alastair muttered under his breath.

Call found himself quite lost gazing at the shaking figure of his father. Did taking Havoc out to poop really need all this drama? Just as Call was about to ask this very question, his father, who seemed to have regained his composure, spoke up himself.

“Okay, Call I’ll go with you, we'll find Havoc together. But let's make it quick...”

Call readily agreed to his father's recommendation, his previous odd demeanor already long forgotten.


	2. Dark Skies, Dark Tidings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter is a quote from another video-game...Hahaha what a surprise... I hope this chapter doesnt need as much help as the first did, but uhm 24 hours from now we'll all know :D Also I know Im drawing it out a lot, but next chapter they WILL enter CAstlevania- I mean 'Dracula's Castle'... And then things will pick up... Tamara Aaryn, and maybe another certain punk-kid.

When Call finally got his father out of their house, Havoc was surprisingly still in view. The dog was sitting facing towards the east and towards the rising moon. To Call, it was almost like he had been waiting there for him the entire time. 

“Hey boy! I'm here, come on Havoc! Come here!” Call called, but as soon as his voice pierced the still air, Havoc went dashing away. 

“The wolf obviously is trying to run away. Call, and I say we let him be.” Alastair said, placing a placating hand on Call’s shoulder.

Like that was gonna convince him to give up on his best friend. 

“Really dad? He’s _obviously_ telling us to follow him,” Call said surely. “He wants to show us something.” 

Without waiting for his father’s response, Call dashed off into the darkened forest. This was normal, Havoc probably wanted to poop, show Call something he had recently dug up, and finally they would head back home. His dad didn't even need to come with them.

=============

After entering the tree's cover, Call glanced around blindly, he couldn't spot Havoc anywhere within the darkened forest, even the dog's shadow had completely vanished. The trees suddenly seemed unimaginably murky and unconsciously he found himself taking a step back, he felt relieved when he felt the warm presence of his father. 

“The solar-eclipse is happening this evening Call,” Alastair commented, reaching for something within his coat, “If we’re gonna find your pup, we at least got to be able to see him.” 

As if out of thin air, a bright beam of light illuminated the forest underbrush.

“A flashlight!” Call exclaimed. Being Captain Obvious was okay in Call’s book, after all Captain Obvious was never the first to die in the horror movies, which was actually quite the exaggeration, but the familiar forest that Call and Havoc journeyed through each and every day couldn't have seemed more different shrouded in shadow. Call had never been particularly afraid of the dark, but his moment in the inky blackness earlier had made his skin crawl. Just thinking of the fresh memories made his head dizzy.

A warm hand shook Call out of his disoriented thoughts,

“You wanna head back kiddo? We can find him first thing tomorrow morning.” Alastair asked, eyeing Call. 

Suddenly Call felt _very_ grateful that his father had decided to tag along with him. Not only did something seem off in the forest, but Call just didn't feel like himself. The flashlight and support were a nice added bonus too.

Swallowing back his light-headed sensations, Call squared his shoulders and met his father's worried glance.

“No, let’s find him tonight, he doesn't like sleeping alone in the dark…” Call found himself smiling at the fond memory of Havoc curling up next to him in his bed, “He wouldn't have gone too far without me.”

As if Call’s words signaled the dog, a loud howl came from some deeper part of the forest, Call felt his eyes light up.

“Dad, he’s that way!” Call said pointing toward a far off direction. Alastair let out a wary sigh and combed a hand through his dark hair. 

“Let’s go get your dog then…” Alastair muttered.


	3. Separation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH IM sorry!! They will go into the castle NEXT CHAPTER I swear!! This just uh needed to happen... uh yeah.... this chapter took really long to write, and I hope its not too cheesy... ^^;; Also I know Call might seem like a sack of flour right now, but he is gonna be back in the limelight for the following chapters, and he is not just gonna sit there uselessly he levels up....soon... I hope

Instead of dashing ahead again, Call walked at a similar pace to his father, staying only a few feet ahead of him. It wasn't like he was scared or anything, he just didn't want his dad to be, so closer was ultimately better.

It seemed the longer they walked the more Call felt his stomach drop, it was like he was just waiting for something to jump out of the shadowy darkness. The sunlight that usually would have illuminated the forest in its warm glow, had disappeared, leaving the woods to the ghastly embrace of darkness. Even the flashlight’s beam seemed to be swallowed by the oncoming gloom, but that wasn't the thing that confused Call. The forest was wrapped not only in complete darkness, but also in complete silence. It was as if the life had been so thoroughly and completely sucked out of the forest, even the smallest locust couldn't escape. Something was very wrong. It was as if Alastair realized this at the same moment and spoke, his voice scarily thin,

“Call we need to go back…”

Call stared ahead searching for a familiar pair of ears and nearly jumped when his eyes picked out the familiar silhouette of his wolf. 

“Dad! He’s there! Havoc is literally right there!”

“Call-!”

Call bolted forward without thinking twice. He had been so worried about Havoc, about the weird feeling in his stomach, about the forest, and now everything would be fine. Now, they could head back and forget this ever happened. Briefly hugging the wolf, Call held its face in his hands, gazing into his eyes. Call stared for a moment into where the eyes of the wolf should have been. He was gazing into two dark holes.

Finally taking a step back, Call noticed many things about the wolf that stood in front of him. This wolf was much larger than Havoc, much larger than his dad even, and it was covered in blood. Call didn't know whose blood, but after hugging the beast, he was too. The eyeless beast stood completely still, holding his gaze, despite the fact he couldn't quite physically do that. Call would have made a joke about it if he wasn't completely frozen by fear, instead he shrieked. 

“Get the hell back!” Alastair commanded, grabbing Call’s arm and pulling him into his vicinity. Call didn't move after his dad pulled him back, staring at the hellish monster- _monsters,_ he belatedly realized. Both him and his dad were surrounded by about six other giant hell wolves. Oddly enough, the wolves didn't make any moves, choosing only to stand and stare at the two humans with their eyeless gazes. Call felt the act was as equally terrifying as if they had decided to attack. 

Alastair surprisingly didn't seem scared at all, in fact he looked scarily determined. No, Call realized, he wasn't scarily determined, but scarily alive. His grey eyes danced with a light in them Call had never seen before. He swiftly pulled a sliver pistol out from his back pocket, and began filling the chamber with pearlescent bullets. Call had to consciously keep his mouth from falling open in sheer shock. _When did my dad have such an awesome gun?_ Call wondered, his shock overpowering whatever fear he had previously felt.

Alastair then proceeded to take off his glasses and hang them on his shirt, letting out a tired sigh before glancing at Call and forcing a half-smile,

“Call, just stay with me, I’ll get us out of this as soon as possible…” his voice went softer, but Call still caught the words he whispered, “I won’t let you get hurt by them. Not again.”

Call just nodded, far too awed to speak.

After Call’s affirmation, Alastair didn't wait a single second longer before shooting his gun a total of six times. His father’s aim was shockingly precise, hitting each wolf right between the eyes, and Call really felt like cheering for him. That was until the monster’s bodies began to bloat and swell, exploding into a mass of blood and flame. Call felt like retching after that. Alastair on the other hand, seemed unaffected, one might even say accustomed, to the gory sight. 

“What the hell just happened??” Call asked, his eyes still wide, and while he wouldn't admit it, his heart was still beating a mile per minute from the rush of adrenaline and fear. 

“You are not allowed to use that sort of language young man,” Alastair said disapprovingly, though his tone was frantic “I will explain everything soon, but for right now we need to get you to-”

“Get you to a safe location perhaps? Ah, Alastair you haven't changed a bit since the day we met, and yet so many things really are so different…”

Both father and son whipped around, shocked to find a third person amidst them. The third figure was clothed in black, his face hidden by a shining silver mask. Having stated his familiarity to Alistair, Call looked up at his father for some semblance of understanding, but instead he found his father as pale as a ghost. 

“ C-Constantine…?” Alastair asked, his voice filled with unmasked fear. Without thinking, Alastair pushed Call further behind himself, as if to protect him from being touched by the masked-man’s gaze. Earlier, a move like this wouldn't have affected Call, but suddenly the young boy’s leg began to throb. His leg hadn't hurt him for the entire evening, and abruptly, severe pain began to flare up his leg. The excruciating feeling erupted within his thigh, and he felt himself taking a knee. The pain was far too intense for him to stand and bear.

As beads of sweat formed on Call’s forehead, he desperately tried to listen to the words being exchanged between his father and the masked man, but his head felt heated. As he felt himself begin to lose consciousness, he grabbed onto his father’s pant leg desperately, and choked out as many words as he could make out, 

“Dad… I…” Call gasped, “I _can't_ breathe.”

Call was vaguely able to make out shouting in the distance, but he couldn't move. His mind screamed at him to sit up and listen, to help his father as he could, yet the burning sensation from his leg only spread throughout his body. It felt as if he was simultaneously being suffocated and burned alive. Call despairingly clutched to his last threads of awareness, hoping he could outlast whatever was eating him alive from the inside out, but just like every other time in his life, Call lost.


	4. Inside the Castle...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo I got to pick who I introduced as the 'new character' here... And I hope the interaction isnt too crummy haha... Also Japser is playing Hammer's role... I dont know, but when I decided that it made me laugh pretty hard... Also there are probably alot of questions, by the end they will all be answered... For now though bear with me ^^ His first real interaction is pretty soon...
> 
> EDIt: Yikes, things go pretty quick in this chapter, and its mostly a transition chapter... I know this one isnt the best, Im trying to pull this all together!!

When Call regained consciousness, his head had cooled down and his lungs no longer felt like they were being smothered. He could finally breathe again, and that was always a start.

Thinking back, Call couldn't find any reason for the sudden- panic attack? That must have been it, he was probably going through shock from all the things that happened that evening. His course of thought came to a halting stop as he remembered the only reason he had even survived the encounter.

“Dad!”

Call’s voice echoed and bounced off the stone wall that stood in front of him. Other than the reverberations of his voice, no other sound answered him and Call felt like falling to his knees again. No matter what happened at school, no matter how hard the bullies hit, his dad had always been there. He might not have said much, but it was all Call needed. Someone to stand by him. It had always been Call, Havoc, and Alastair. As long as they were together, Call could face anything. 

“Havoc?!” Call shouted out hopelessly.

Turning around, the young boy desperately searched for anything that could give him some idea of where his father was, any idea of anything. His eyes caught onto the familiar shine of his father’s silver gun, and Call rushed toward it. The gun had been haphazardly tossed into some foliage, and to his dismay, had a bloody hand print on it.

Call bit his bottom lip and tried to keep himself together. His leg ached, his dad was probably dead, and Havoc _had_ run away. Call did end up falling on his butt, his leg twisted with pain at the action, but it didn't even compare with his inner turmoil. Covering his face with his hands, he felt ready to have the breakdown of his lifetime, until he heard the snap of a stick. It couldn't have been more cliche, but if it was about to save his worthless life from a painful death than maybe he shouldn't complain. Though, Call wasn't sure if he would complain if he was suddenly shot dead. 

He was barely able to make out another boy standing a few feet away. It wasn't anyone he recognized, and by any means could have been another one of the masked man’s allies. Call was not taking any chances. Pointing the gun straight ahead, he cleared his throat and hoped he looked a lot more intimidating than he felt. When he was able to visibly see the other boy’s eyes widen he guessed the gun and bloody shirt did quite the number on people. Not to mention, he hadn't slept in forever and had gotten beaten up, he probably looked quite literally like shit. 

“Put your hands up, and walk forward slowly.” Call ordered, praying his voice didn't betray any of his emotions. 

Call watched as the boy discarded item after item, pointedly dropping them at a slower pace so he could see each and every item-no weapon being discarded. At least that's what Call assumed, but when the boy pulled out a metal whip, Call realized he couldn't have been more wrong. The boy wasted no time in lashing at him, and Call turned narrowly, barely saving his vitals. His right arm, which had been grasping the gun, hadn't been so fortunate, and Call flinched as the gold metal burned away his flesh. He watched in fascinated horror as the metal burned through his skin like paper, and the stench that wafted through the air after was even worse. 

“Your- you're a vampire!” The other boy shouted, in alarm. 

He had gotten close enough now that Call could see his black hair and slanted eyes. Weapons of various sorts surrounded him, and man did Call feel like an idiot for pulling a gun on this guy.

Sweeping his dad’s firearm up with his left hand, he didn't even waste a millisecond to look back at the Asian boy that had whipped him. Instead, he turned to the moat that was now wide open, beckoning him inside.

Face the inside of whatever the hell was in the castle, or face the lunatic outside calling him a vampire? Call wanted nothing more than to be alone at the moment, and he really didn't want to be whipped to death. His decision made, Call ran forward, ignoring his protesting leg. He would find that silver masked-man and make him pay.


	5. Heavy Heart, Sudden Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Call needed to cry about his dad's death once. That is heavy stuff. HE will be back to roasting people very soon... Everyone needs a day off ;-; On another note, this isnt even sticking to the correct geography from the games... I need to use a certain soul for a plot device, and yea... I said its lowkey based off the game right? ^^; Also Call will never stop being surprised

When Call entered the castle, he found himself quite shocked. Unlike the outside, which had displayed a grand and mighty stone fortress, the inside was quite dilapidated. Through a crack large enough to fit his head through, Call was even able to glance at the large moon filling up almost the entirety of the darkened sky. That was definitely not supposed to be visible during a solar eclipse, but bloody-eyeless-hell wolves weren’t supposed to exist, solar eclipse or not.

Nothing made any sense.

Havoc runs away one day, his dad reveals himself to be a monster hunter, and he… He’s left all alone? 

It took Call a moment to realize he was crying. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks and he wiped at them pathetically. He couldn't believe himself to be so lame as to resort to crying, he was fourteen years old, after all. Fourteen year-old boys didn't cry. But he couldn't stop the rush of emotion he was consumed with, he couldn't stop thinking about the last evening he spent with his father. Alastair had warned him not to go out, but Call had insisted on going no matter what. Why had he been such a dumbarse? Why didn't he just listen to him? For one time in his entire life, why did he not listen to his dad?

Regrets flooded him, all his mistakes over the years, all of his rude quips back at his father. Now he was dead, and it couldn't have been more of Call’s fault.

He didn't know how long he sobbed. When he glanced back out of the small window, the moon seemed to be in the exact position he had last seen it in.

 _I wonder if time even passes in this place,_ Call thought absentmindedly.

Despite the fact that ‘crying it out’ was supposed to help, he honestly couldn't help but feel even worse. He felt even more exhausted than before, even hungrier, and definitely more depressed. His dad was gone and he was alone in what? Some sort of monster-filled hell? Where even was he? Would anyone even realize their disappearance? There was a million unanswered questions in his head, and no one to answer them. The thought alone was more distressing than he realized.

Getting up back onto his feet was difficult, but he got ready to leave the main hallway anyway to search for something to snack on. He swore he heard the sound of clanking bones, which was oddly specific even for him, but surmised it as his own bad leg cracking painfully. 

If he was planning to survive in this place for longer than a week, then he _needed_ to find a food source. That and somewhere to sleep. 

A brief memory flashed through Call’s mind: Himself and Havoc napping away a hot summer day, his father busy tinkering away on his favourite car; the sound of clinking metal, the peace.

Call sucked in a large breath, it was going to be a long journey. 

As he began to shuffle through the multiple hallways, he noticed the very build of the castle begin to change. The tall pillars and broken walls soon disappeared, giving way to more vegetation. The stone walls were soon swathed in layers of ivy and other questionable plants. The air itself changed too, becoming much more humid, hot, and stuffy, rather than the open air he had been breathing in earlier.

Other than the freakishly fast changing scenery, Call found the oddest part to him was the lack of monsters. He had felt eyes on his back more than once, but no matter how many times he looked around, he couldn't find another living soul, monster or human. _No wonder that lunatic outside was collecting weapons, the poor guy must have gone crazy after being in this place for so long,_ Call thought and then on a different note, _Maybe he could have even told me something about this place._ Call scoffed, glancing at his burned arm, that guy had seemed pretty ready to kill him rather than sit and talk. Maybe he should have been a bit more careful when he decided to point his gun at random people.

With his attention occupied by his thoughts, Call stubbed his left foot on a hard stone. It always had to be the bad leg didn't it? 

“Shit!” he cried, ready to kick the offending stone off into the pits of hell (that was to say if he wasn't already in them). 

Looking down, Call realized this wasn't any stone, but rather the top of some leafy green, a carrot he assumed. His stomach rumbled aggressively. 

“I don't really like carrots…” Call muttered to himself, “But at the moment I don't think I really carr-ot all…” 

“You didn't really just say that right?”

Call’s head shot up.


	6. Prideful Mage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo im actually diverging from both the books and games plot and lore... Some will be similar but ya know...

Call glanced around searching for the owner of the voice and found a young girl standing just to the right of him. She had amber skin and sparkling dark eyes. Her hair was pulled back into a long black braid that fell elegantly on her shoulder. The weird clothes she wore looked like they belonged to era's long past, and only added to her eccentric arrival.

Call felt like he should be surprised to see another person standing there, surprised a girl as pretty as her was talking to _him,_ but he kind of didn't feel anything at all. 

“If you don't like my carrot puns, I think you might have some deeply rooted issues.” Call said without blinking twice. God was he bad at introductions. Though, in his defence he was feeling a bit out of sorts. Just a little bit, not like his dad had just died or anything.

“Oh my- I can’t believe you!” she exclaimed, and seemed ready to continue until Call began to pull the carrot from the ground, “Hey wait you shouldn't do that!”

Well, too late for that. Call pulled the root from the ground, and stared at the vegetable on the other end.

Whatever it was, it wasn't a carrot, that was for sure. It seemed more yellow and the longer Call stared at it, the more he thought he saw a face on the twisted root. Two gnarled knots marked its eyes and its mouth was… opening, revealing a fleshy and pink inside. Okay, this was _definitely_ not a carrot.

“What did I say?” the girl said matter-of-factly, she even placed her hand on her hip to emphasize her own words. “Now quickly toss it away, before you get hurt!”

Call did indeed toss it away, but the vegetable did not exactly go the way he had planned for it to go. When the root landed, it ended up near the girl’s feet, and Call was pretty sure he heard her curse before she shouted at him, 

“Why did you toss it at me?!” 

Call shrugged and shouted back, "Sorry, I didn't eat too many carrots growing up, my eyesight is bad!" and hoped that would cover him. He really hoped his aim wouldn't be so bad when he shot the gun. Things could get pretty out of hand if that were to happen.

The girl scoffed and quickly kicked the root away from herself, but this time in a direction neither person stood. Call watched as the root disappeared into vegetation and heard a loud explosion. He fleetingly wondered what would have happened if he _had_ eaten it. 

The girl seemed to have recomposed herself by the time Call looked at her again, and strode towards him confidently, studying him closely. 

“Now that the Mandragora is gone, I do need to ask, just who exactly are you? And how did you get inside Dracula’s Castle?”

“We’re in Dracula’s castle?” Call felt appalled, “So you're saying, we’re in Europe somewhere?”

The girl sighed in exasperation before meeting his eyes again.

“No we are not in Europe, Dracula-or Constantine was defeated back in 1999 by heroes. Ever since then, they sealed his castle within the Solar Eclipse, so it wouldn't hurt anyone anymore. And if you won’t tell me your name then I can always call you-”

“Call” he cut in. 

“Well then Call, I am Tamara Rajavi, my family is a direct descendant of the Belnades Clan and I am here as an envoy to disrupt the prophecy of 1999,” Tamara paused, as if waiting for Call to gasp and realize how amazing she really was, but when he didn't, she cleared her throat and continued on, “So how exactly did you get here Call?”

Call didn't really feel like lying but he really didn't feel like explaining his story to a stranger either. Not only that, but something Tamara had said messed with him, he just couldn't put his finger on what. He opted for something vague. 

“My dog ran away and I went looking for him and then I passed out and woke up here.” 

Tamara looked like she expected him to say more so he added, “I didn't know there was a cult that worshipped Christopher Lee. You do know he died a few years ago, right?” 

“You didn't listen to anything I said, did you? Dracula was a real person! Not an actor! Dracula is the title of the person who this Castle will yield to. Constantine, who was the last Dracula, was killed back in 1999, but the prophecy states that a new Dracula will come to claim the Castle this very year.” Tamara explained, and Call briefly thought of reminding her he hadn't asked in the first place. 

“Well good luck with that-” Call mumbled, ready to wish the girl away. Until his exhausted and starved mind clicked into place.

Constantine?! Call had heard that name, it was the name of the silver masked man his father had last spoken to. It was the name of the man he was planning to hunt down and kill. Tamara had said his name twice now, claiming he was dead. But Call had seen him, the man had been walking and talking, much better than Call had his entire life.

Whoever "Constantine" was, he was definitely not dead.


	7. Glittering Blue Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took soo long! I was a bit busy this week, but I have decided some major things... I am no longer just sticking to the Sorrow games, I think I'm gonna include monsters and bosses from all the other games too SPOILer ( I wanna include Beelzebub from SOTN) so yeah there's that. Maybe even rooms and stuff, though Dracula's castle can tend to be kinda similar... Also I read the first 4 books all before the last book was even released, and I am re-reading them now, plus the last one I have never read so uhm if I am slaughtering anyones character immensely I am so sorry... Sorry for the long rant and enjoy~

Call had already decided he wouldn't tell this random girl about what had happened with his dad. If Dracula had some beef with the Hunt family, he would be the only one to deal with it. But thinking about it, that brought up a whole new wave of questions. One of the big ones being, just how much had Alastair been hiding from him all this time? 

The onslaught of thoughts that currently assaulted Call’s mind made him want to slam his head against a wall.

In an effort to avoid the mess his head currently was, he could see what Tamara had taken to and see if she was offering any more free information. Even though, with all things considered, being in 'Dracula's castle' and 'stuck in a solar eclipse' didn't seem to be the most sane answers, Call literally had nothing else to go off of.

She also seemed to be consumed with her thoughts. That didn't seem to be too interesting.

“I guess it makes sense that he’s ‘a wrong-place wrong-time’ case…” Tamara mumbled to herself, “It's happened before, but wouldn't Jasper have seen him first and reported it back to us? He only reported being ‘harassed by a vampire’ which he definitely isn't.” 

Call listened to her mumble for a bit before asking, 

“You don't by chance have something to eat do you?”

Tamara stared at him, her dark eyes wide. Call assumed she was embarrassed since she had been caught talking to herself. 

“Of course I do!” she claimed boldly. Tamara then proceeded to pat herself down, and when Call eyed her dubiously, she humphed.

Then she began to check the little pouches that decorated her belt, plopping them on the floor when their contents weren't satisfactory. Call peered into one of the small bags and happened a glance at a fine sparkling dust. It reminded him of fairy-dust from the movies.

"What even is all this stuff?" Call asked.

“Don't touch that!” Tamara snapped. Contrary to what he usually would have done, Call actually withdrew his hand obediently and then waited expectantly. When Tamara reached her final pouch, Call’s stomach growled with dramatic intensity. It only took a few moments to be matched by Tamara’s own stomach. Neither of them commented on it.

Without opening the last pouch, Tamara stared at him seriously, placing her hand on his shoulder. 

“Call, please tell me honestly, when was the last time you ate?” she asked it with such an intense tone, even Call felt compelled enough to tell the truth. 

“I don't know what today is, but the last thing I ate was lunch on Thursday.”

Tamara opened the bag so fast, Call didn't even have time to watch the single slice of bread fly toward him. He did however catch it before it could be soiled by the dirt underfoot. 

“You only have one piece of bread?” Call questioned incredulously. 

“My partner and I got separated early on in the castle. He just happened to be holding most of the food... “ Tamara explained sorrowfully. To Call, she seemed more upset about losing the food than the partner, but as she had provided the very last of her food for Call, he decided not to say anything. He did have _some_ manners. 

Without too much thought, Call ripped the slice in half and handed her a piece, turning his face at an angle so she couldn't see it. 

“Well, I don't plan to starve today," Call stated, waiting for her to take the other half of the rye bread.

Tamara's eyes sparkled at the offered half of bread, and she took it slowly, words of thanks on the tip of her tongue. Call didn't let her say them, however. Instead, through a mouthful of the dry bread, he spit out a few words.

"So what does 'Belnades' mean anyway?"

"Belnades is the name of an ancient clan that used to fight against Dracula. They are remembered as great spell-casters and mages. My family just happens to be distantly related to them, and I was lucky enough to be born with this power too. " Tamara explained.

Call murmured his acknowledgment, his stomach aching at its emptiness. The small sip of water she offered didn't help much either.

Everything that came out of this girl’s mouth was weird. He couldn't tell if he should believe her or not. If it had been a day ago, he definitely wouldn't have. But after everything he had been through so far, he wasn't as quick to deny her words. He had almost been exploded by a carrot, what was so crazy about a person using spells?...Right?

Rising to his feet, Call caught Tamara studying him again. She was probably noticing how horrid he looked with his uneven legs, tousled hair, and overall repulsive appearance. It wouldn't be the first time someone commented. Instead, she said something he hadn't expected.

"I know it sucks, but until Aar- my partner and I destroy the new heir to Dracula's throne, we're all stuck within the Castle's seal. So for now, I'll take you to a resting spot. You'll be safe there until we finish business."

“Lead away.” Call said, rather dully. 

Tamara led him down different hallways and into hidden rooms he hadn't even realized were there. For the majority of the journey, neither said anything. Call would have if not for his lethargic and exhausted state, and Tamara seemed too focused to utter even a word.

Since conversing wasn't really an option, Call glanced at the passing vegetation, attempting to identify even a single plant. It wasn't until they passed an especially large flower did a name come to mind. The flower appeared to be a rose, only it was as large as him, which probably meant it wasn't a rose, but Call wasn't about to give up the only plant he could name.

“Call…” Tamara warned suddenly, “Whatever you do, don't make any sudden movements. Just come towards me slowly.” 

Call swept the area around him with a quick glimpse, trying to recognize the threat. When he wasn't able to find it, he did begin to walk forward slowly, careful not to step on anything that might be alive. He didn't realize Tamara had also been inching forward, her hand reaching for his. As soon as the tips of their fingers touched, vines shot up from the soil underfoot, each one expertly missing Call, while also going straight for Tamara. The vines were covered in thorns, and a sickeningly sweet smell permeated the air. 

“It’s an Alura Une! Try not to breathe in her pollen, its-!” Tamara’s advice was cut off as a thorn sliced deathly close to her face. 

Call watched in amazement as Tamara swiftly dodged each vine, while simultaneously trying to go onto the offensive herself. When she had an opening, fire sprang from her fingers, incinerating the oncoming assault, but her victory was short-lived as more vines sprouted from the ashes of the dead plants. No matter how strong she was, the vines kept coming, and Call knew they both had only eaten half-a-piece of bread in who knows how many days. Her flames could only last so long. 

Call turned around, searching once again for the main threat Tamara had originally pointed out, and his eyes caught onto the large flower he had been admiring earlier. The ‘rose’ had now budded, revealing a young girl cradled amidst its crimson petals. Her lips had formed a small ‘o’ shape and emitted the large cloud of pollen Tamara had warned against. She must have been the main body of the 'Alura Une'. 

Call didn't hesitate to pull out his father’s gun and aim. His first shot surprisingly hit her, and he heard her hiss venomously, before turning her attention towards him. Unlike Tamara, who had gracefully dodged each projectile, dancing dexterously to the tune of battle, Call was neither graceful nor dexterous. He clunkily evaded an oncoming plant, but was quickly ensnared by another six vines. They wrapped around his waist and legs, tearing at both his clothes and flesh.

Call barely registered the pain at all, instead focusing on his aim. He had played a few first-person-shooters, getting a head shot couldn't be so impossible. When a thorn cut precariously close to his thigh, however, Call was suddenly able to feel every other sensation acutely.

So much for not feeling anything.

The stinging cuts, the burning pain, and the suffocatingly sweet pollen that seemed to set his lungs on fire, made him go mad. The combination of so many tormenting sensations threw Call's mind into complete insanity. He no longer tried to aim, only shooting crazily in the direction he had last seen the hellish blossom. A small part of his brain really hoped Tamara was still behind him because if she wasn't, she would have been full of holes.

After shooting multiple rounds of bullets, Call watched a giant ice spike spear through the Alura Une's head. The monster let out an ear–curdling shriek, and erupted into flames. The vines that had held Call in place released him too, falling to the ground grey and shrivelled.

Staring at their remains, Call wouldn't have believed they were once alive and trying to kill him.

In milliseconds, a bright blue light flashed, swirled around Call and disappeared, going unnoticed by both of them. The pair was too stalled at the shock of battle. They were both panting, their breaths mingling in exhausted unison. Tamara was the first to break the silence.

"Are you… Are you alright?" she asked, her voice trembling. 

"I'm alive," Call muttered, breathing hard, "That ice thing at the end was kind of awesome."

Call watched as Tamara's lips turned upwards, obviously she was filled with pride.

"You weren't too bad yourself Call... " Tamara's tone softened as she eyed his exposed abdomen, "You _are_ injured!"

Call glanced down at his shredded T-shirt, it had been one of his favourites, and now the words could barely made out. Call frowned.

"Did you at least read it before?" he asked, genuinely worried that it had gone unappreciated.

“I did read it, it said ‘my priorities are wrong’ and,” when Call tried to interrupt her, she pressed on, raising her voice over his, “I for one, think it was quite right.”

“I guess you didn't, cause’ it actually said ‘The girl standing next to me doesn't appreciate Hot Topic T-shirts’. And I for one, don't know how to feel about that.” Call corrected, leveling Tamara with his gaze. It was her turn to frown.


	8. Lost Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so This is a Calron, I swear... ff7 was a good game cause sephiroth came in after 7 hours of gameplay... So Aaryn is planned to come in on chapter 10, but plans change so bear with me... I hope this chapter isnt too blegh... Next chapter is supposed to be more fun so :)

After the encounter with the Alura Une, the rest of the trip was rather uneventful. Tamara had asked about his gun, and Call had said something he couldn't remember. She then had insisted on bandaging his wounds, but apparently had forgotten the first aid-kit with her partner too.

Call was pretty sure that if they weren't able to reach the ‘resting point’ in the next hour, they were both going to drop dead somewhere. The thought reminded Call of a question he hadn't asked yet.

“So what day is it anyway?” 

“It is currently Sunday the nineteenth, and it is six o’clock pm.” Tamara said, glancing at some trinket that quickly disappeared within one of her pouches. 

Well, that explained why he felt so horribly close to death, Call hadn't eaten or slept in three days. He suddenly wished he had eaten the whole piece of bread instead of sharing. He squeezed his eyes shut, questioning why exactly he had pretended to be a decent human-being. Considering his crass outlook on everything, he really couldn't find a reason why he decided to suddenly try. 

Rubbing his bleary eyes, Call belatedly realized Tamara had stopped a few inches in front of him. 

“We’re here.” she announced, leading Call into the darkened room. 

Despite his slight suspicions at entering a dark room with a stranger, Call walked ahead fearlessly. He was fairly ready to get some sleep, and if that meant _eternal_ sleep, he was not objecting... Not too much anyway.

Upon entering, the first thing Call noticed was the large stone statue that stood in the centre of the room. The statue appeared to be a woman with stone wings. Her hand was outstretched forever, reaching for something she could never possess. Her face was carved lightly, giving her delicate and pleasant features, and while Call felt a bit unnerved at her gaze, he knew his dad would have killed to see something of such exquisite craft. The thought made his heart sink. Swallowing back tears he didn't know he had, Call glanced at Tamara who was already nearing the exit. 

“Are you leaving already?” he asked, his voice sounding smaller than he would have liked. Call blamed it on his lack of water.

Tamara didn't seem to notice.

“I’m going to find my partner, and when I do, we’ll both come back and give you the help you need,” Tamara said, looking pointedly at his left leg, “ I would take you with me, but you aren't really in shape to be traversing through Dracula’s Castle.”

Her words, while true, stung Call where it hurt. Having not mentioned it the entire time, Call had thought that maybe she was different. Maybe he had thought _he_ was different. Different from the ‘Call’ that was handicapped, different from the 'Call' that _hadn't_ entered Dracula’s castle. The one that was ridiculed by his peers, beaten up after school, the one that had a family to go home to. Call swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat, and hoped his voice didn't shake when he spoke.

“Y-yeah.” he muttered, not trusting himself to say anymore without revealing too much.

Following Call’s affirmation, Tamara left in a sweep of Victorian silk and glittering dust.

He wondered if he would ever see her again. 

Call was once again alone. He hadn't minded being alone at first, but now that Tamara had come and gone, Call didn't feel so brave anymore. Despite feeling extremely exhausted, he found he couldn't fall asleep. He wasn't about to wait for something to pop out and kill him. Not only that, the very walls of the castle seemed to whisper and creak, it was like they were almost alive. When a particularly large moan resounded within the wall, Call realized there was absolutely no way he was going to fall asleep, no matter how tired he got.

So rather than resting, Call took to finding the most entertaining way to distract himself from his current circumstances. Having a staring contest with the statue got old pretty fast. And trying to understand how the six original bullets Alastair had put in the gun hadn't run out yet, seemed impossible. He then tried to pass time by counting how many gashes he had on himself, and when the number got greater than seven, he decided he should probably stop, just for his own mental stability. 

Call ended up flopping onto the cold stone floor, trying his best to stretch his bad leg. The stones were hard and unforgiving, poking into every muscle and wound on his already battered body. His leg in particular, seemed the most uncomfortable, which didn't surprise Call in the least. Journeying through the castle really had been tough, and now he had to pay the price. Call wasn't able to stretch his leg far, before an alarming pain shot up the entirety of the limb. His face scrunched up in pain, as he tried to maneuver himself into a sitting position. He found the action to be barely manageable. With his back pressed against the base of the statue, fatigue overwhelmed all his other senses, and Call felt himself losing awareness.

It hadn't been more than five minutes, when Call’s eyes flashed open again in shocking horror. He had heard something. He had heard a whine. The sound had been faint and squeaky, and so achingly familiar.

Call wasted no time rising to his feet, even when his leg cramped and throbbed, he didn't stop. Call limped as quickly as he could out of the resting area and followed the sound like his life depended on it. To him, it really did. Corridor after corridor passed by in Call's haste, and before he knew it the scenery around him was changing again too. 

The leafy vegetation gave way to striped palegreen wallpaper that peeled away at the edges. Paintings lined the walls, depicting men and women from ages long past. Mysterious splatters and age marks marred the walls and floors, but the brightly burning chandeliers overhead suggested this place wasn't as aged as it seemed. Call passed it all by, uninterested in his surroundings. The only thing that mattered was the whimpering.

Call had heard it a million times. Whether it had been from under the table during dinner, or when he was being bathed, this cry, Call swore, belonged to no one other than Havoc. 

As Call continued his stride, the sound grew louder and louder, which only pushed the young boy to walk faster. Soon enough, he was running. He pushed past the pain from his wounds and leg, and felt desperate tears prick his eyes. Finally, when the sound reached its peak volume, Call found himself standing in front of a fancy wood-made door. Uncaring for the intricacies of design, Call pushed the door open and froze instantly.

There was Havoc, his precious young wolf, with chains binding each of his limbs and neck. He laid on his side, his usual fluffy grey fur was matted with blood, and his breathing was ragged. At the sight of Call, his cries stopped and his tail wagged slowly, each thump resounded with the pounding of Call’s heart. 

Breaking himself out of his trance, Call rushed forward and scooped Havoc’s lowered head onto his lap. Havoc stared up at Call weakly, his eyes which were once bright and coruscating were now dulled by pain, but he was obviously comforted at the sight of his master. 

“It’s ok buddy…” Call comforted, stroking his head lightly, “I’m here now, I’m gonna help you.” 

When Havoc didn't respond Call’s heart sped up even faster. How was he going to help him? Call couldn't do _anything._ He wished he could give Havoc half of his life, wished he could do something. Do anything but hold him _uselessly_. Call desperately willed himself to do something. 

It was in a single second when Call felt something break through. In the pit of his stomach he felt something pulling the energy from his body. He didn't understand it, but it was also in this moment when Call noticed something in his peripheral vision: a vine. Call swung around, unaware of the threat that stood behind him. An Alura Une stood directly behind him, her vines unmoving, and her lips shut. Call grabbed for his gun, but quickly realized the Une that stood behind him wasn't attacking. Her arms were outstretched towards both Call and Havoc, and while it took him a moment to realize it, pollen fell from her dainty fingers. This pollen was different from the one before, it didn't have a strong fragrance, and was actually healing both him and Havoc. The gashes and bruises that had once littered his body disappeared as the golden dust fell upon his skin. After what felt like a decade to Call, the Une wiggled her fingers at him before disappearing. Call honestly felt so shocked he couldn't move. 

An Alura Une had randomly poofed into existence behind him, (because she definitely wouldn't have fit through the door), healed himself and Havoc, waved at him, and then just disappeared?!

Call felt so appalled he slumped down next to Havoc, and shut his eyes. Unconsciousness took over him in seconds.


	9. Demon Boutique

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dont know why this chapter was so hard to write... It ended up kinda long too... I actually planned 2 more events to happen here, but yeah... Those will happen in the next chapter. I hope Aaron does not get pushed back.

Having passed out from exhaustion, Call’s eyelids had practically sealed themselves. He really hadn't wanted to get up for anything, but when a strong tug pulled at his foot, he regretfully left the blissful state of sleep and ignorance, forcing his eyes to open. 

There was Havoc, his haunches raised into the air, while his teeth were latched firmly onto Call’s sneaker. Call stared at him for a moment before shaking his head clearly unamused.

“Really?” he asked disappointedly. 

Havoc didn't share the sentiment. Seeing his master awake, sent him into a frenzy of excited barks and enthusiastic tail swishing. Without wasting a second, Havoc was standing on his chest covering his face in kisses. Call laughed a bit, before hugging him tightly, whispering, 

“I really thought you were gone…”

Havoc paid no mind to Call’s somber statement, wagging his tail even more everytime the boy spoke. His optimism was contagious and soon Call found himself grinning too.

It felt like it had been a long time since he felt happy… Or maybe it wasn't happiness, but hopefulness. Suddenly, with Havoc standing there with him, Call felt like he _could_ take on Constantine, like he could make it through the castle. And who knows, maybe his dad _was_ alive, and just waiting for them to save him. The inkling of hope warred against the pessimistic roots of Call’s mind, but he didn't care. Rising to his feet, he pulled his gun out of his pants, and glanced at Havoc.

“Let’s go beat some monster ass.” he said menacingly. Havoc barked encouragingly. 

******

Call and Havoc both seemed to have the same idea as they left: food. Both being as young and energetic as they were, and having burned so much power, they were now seeking something to refuel with. Call didn't bother with going back and checking the way he had come. With Havoc's unexpected arrival, Tamara was long forgotten. The only path for the duo was forward.

Passing into the next hallway, Call found an ominous sign sticking out of the splintered wood underfoot. It looked like someone had jammed it in between two planks uncaringly, as it tilted at an odd angle. The handwriting was crooked and uneven too, reminding Call of a child’s script. The ink was coloured suspiciously red… and dripped ominously down the sign. It spelled out ‘Demon Guesthouse’ and while Call didn't want to admit it, the sign was pretty unnerving.

Havoc, on the other hand, didn't seem to think anything of it. Lifting his hindleg, he pissed on it, sniffed the sign, and trotted ahead. Call stifled a laugh, _Serves it right_ , he thought smugly. 

Upon entering the next room, Call felt his jaw unhinge itself and fall straight to the floor. The room was so enormously huge, the corners were hidden in darkness, but the parts he could see were enough to impress. Grand ivory pillars stood hundreds of feet above him, outlining the most grandiose staircase known to man. Torn silken curtains hung high above, tracing the entirety of the ballroom, in their once lustrous shine. But it was neither the pillars, nor the staircase that mesmerized Call. It was the dancers. They seemed to be ghastly, only wisps of memories, and yet Call couldn't seem to tear his eyes from their swirling forms. Women curtsied, their satin dresses pooling at their feet, and their respective partners would tip their hats, ready for another waltz. They danced to an unheard tune, unhindered by the passage of time, or any other miniscule factors that would interrupt their eternal dance. Call would be lying if he said he didn't find it to be beautiful… Eerily beautiful, that is. 

His trance came to an abrupt end as Havoc, who had been waiting patiently with him, decided to not only bark, but also chase the dancers. The dancers didn't move out of their waltz formation, and twirled right into Havoc’s waiting jaws. When the pup snapped his jaws shut, the dancers poofed into dust, and a grim moan echoed across the empty ballroom. It only took half-a second for all the beauty and awe Call had originally felt to turn to sheer horror.

How long had these people been cursed to dance here? Had they actually been real people once? Call was definitely not waiting around to find out. Despite Havoc’s reluctance, Call hurriedly grabbed the puppy by his scruff and dragged him out of the haunted ballroom. 

The next room was thin and long- really resembling more of a tower than an actual room- and soared high above Call’s head. Stairs spiralled upwards and numbered doors lined the walls. Call guessed these were the actual ‘demon guest rooms’. Crystalline chandeliers illuminated the spire, the sound of their crystals tinkling the only noise that kept the hall from being completely silent.

The sound unnerved Call, so he readied his gun and made eye contact with Havoc, motioning his hand forward before quickly motioning for silence. Havoc huffed out a breath, slapped Call with his tail, and pattered forward confidently. 

“Was that amount of sass really necessary?” Call muttered under his breath to no one in particular. He followed after him closely, far too accustomed to the crazy dog’s antics. 

Looking at the coiling staircase made Call’s leg hurt tenfold, but he tried not to think about it too long. Havoc was already sniffing at the bottom of the first door after all. It took only a few moments for Call to join him. The first thing he looked at was the yellowed plaque that read, ‘Quezlcoatl’. 

What the heck did that even mean?

Call noticed that all of the doors were either pink, green, or yellow, which uncannily matched with the carousel wallpaper that adorned the area. It might have looked nice at some point in time, but the paper had deteriorated and fallen, leaving the ponies to look more like demons. Call felt himself grimace. 

Turning back towards the door, Call locked eyes with Havoc, and then slowly reached for the golden knob. Before his fingers could even make contact, a loud bang resounded on the opposite side of the door, making Call and Havoc jump back in fear. Sharing a brief wide-eyed look, both dog and boy went dashing up the stairs, their previous worries forgotten. They only stopped when Call could no longer run. His lungs and leg equally burning in protest. Havoc, however, seemed even more excited than usual. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and his tail was wagging a mile-per-minute. Call laughed breathily, while patting Havoc’s head fondly. 

That had certainly gotten their adrenaline pumping. 

Call rose to his feet and leaned against the railing, peering down at the first door warily. It looked no different than it had before, which obviously made it even more suspicious. After he was sure nothing was going to emerge, he turned back to find Havoc sticking his nose into the crack of the already opened door behind them. The plaque on this door was missing, and with the door already slightly ajar, Call felt nervous sweat roll down his back. Or maybe it was sweat from running up so many stairs because that could really wear someone out, but either way, the ominous chill the room emitted was no farce. 

Call pushed the door open and raised his gun, waiting for something to jump out. When his expectations were let down, he let out a short breath of relief. Havoc, who seemed unafraid of any and all things, headed in without waiting for Call, and barked incessantly, wanting him to follow immediately. 

In the centre of the room was a canopy bed (which Havoc was now fully sprawled out upon)… Or what used to be a canopy bed. The canopy itself had been mostly shredded, but the rest of the bed seemed to be in decent condition. The room was lit by many candelabras and in the far right was yet another door. Opposite of the adjoined door, stood a large wardrobe made of a deep dark wood that Call couldn't name. 

Overall, the room was pretty nice, but for whatever reason, the residents were nowhere in sight. Call's eyes were unknowingly drawn to the door across from where he stood. Unless of course, they hadn't left and were simply awaiting the perfect time to ambush them. Call shot a brief glance at Havoc, who was laying on the bed licking at his paws. A small smile found its way onto Call's face, but quickly faded as a thought flashed through his mind. He would have to brave the oncoming room alone. Havoc was not going to get hurt again, not under Call's watch. Mustering all the bravery he could, he walked towards the door and slammed it open.

Call felt his shoulders sag with relief when nothing was there to greet him. He hesitantly walked ahead, examining the small stone room. Call had expected hanged bodies, voodoo dolls, and perhaps some namelessly horrifying beast. But no, this mysterious room, which had brought so much worry and fear into Call's mind, was nothing more than an adjoined bathroom. Because apparently demons had to poop too. 

The only thing that mildly discomforted Call about this room was the porcelain bath that was filled to the brim with soapy water and bubbles. Feeling the steam against his chilled skin, also informed Call that this bath had recently been made for someone. For s _omething_. 

Havoc, who had followed after Call the entire time, didn't think twice before hopping into the elegant tub. Havoc was no longer a small puppy, and his jump into the bath sent hot water and bubbles flying everywhere. Call who was unfortunately too slow to react, was caught in the splash zone. He now stood stock still, drenched from head to toe, in water that most likely came from pipes made and fueled by monsters. 

"You-!" Call yelled, pausing to toss his sopping wet clothes off haphazardly, "You don't even like taking baths that much!"

Havoc yapped innocently, an artful spud of soap marring his head. Call joined him not long afterwards, making sure Havoc got the soapy revenge he deserved. Despite the bubbly battle that was wholeheartedly waged, the warm water never ran out. Water sloshed over the sides slickening the grey stone flooring, and bubbles floated far. Call stocked it up to being magic, like many of the things in the castle. The conclusion should have garnered more shock and worry, but the everlasting warmth of the cursed water muddled his thoughts.

Stepping out of the bath, Call surprisingly felt like an entirely new person. If he knew bathing could refresh someone so much, maybe he would have done it more back home. If he even had a home to return to… That was going so far to say, if he even got out of the castle _alive._

On a slightly more important note than his death, Call was standing completely naked, except for a small towel he had conveniently found and wrapped around his waist. Of all the things Call imagined himself to be doing in a castle filled with unimaginable evil, sitting naked and somewhat at ease, was not one of them. 

When a chilliness crept into the room, he decided that 'naked and at ease' was no longer a viable option. With his original clothes torn, bloodied, and now drenched, Call didn't really want to even try them on again. Instead, he crossed the room and squinted at the fancy wardrobe that stood in front of him. It was time to test his luck. Pulling the uppermost drawer open, he was openly delighted to find clothes folded within. He was not going to wait around naked a second longer.


	10. Curry Catastrophe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK this is a fic, I decided to add aaryn in early, in favour of adding plot points later...  
> If you are the first people to read this I'm sorry, I wish I had an editor!1 ;-;

After donning the black turtleneck and matching trousers, Call settled himself beside Havoc on the bed. Either the bed wasn't as battered as it seemed, or Call was _very_ tired because it felt like he was being encompassed by clouds that had floated down from the seventh realm of heaven. 

He must have been really tired to be making stupid analogies like that.

Because Havoc was already on the bed asleep, Call decided to take first watch. When sleep threatened to consume him, he decided to hold his eyelids open with his fingers. It was neither convenient, nor pleasant, but in the least, it kept his eyes open. Seconds seemed to stretch into hours, and if not for his still dripping hair, Call would have been convinced hours had actually passed. Havoc had been lulled into a deep sleep, kicking at Call every now and then, in pursuit of whatever rabbit he was chasing within his dreams. The young boy glared enviously in the pup’s direction, but his gaze held no malice. No one was here to keep watch if Call went to sleep, so ultimately he had to keep his eyes peeled. There was no question about that. But a sleep deprived Call was a trigger-happy Call, so he hoped Tamara didn't try any funny business if she decided to pop up. That or her partner. Although he didn't want to admit it, Call really hoped it was the latter. He swore his stomach was devouring his intestines, and that was only one of the things driving him insane.

The second factor, well...Call was beginning to feel tired of himself. He knew why other kids avoided him like the plague, being stuck in his own head every day was already hell enough. But being stuck in his head for twenty-four hours everyday, without a sleep break, and no outlet made him feel like he was a recently decapitated chicken, whose body still ran about, despite being headless, who had also recently been set aflame. That probably summed up his current mood too. 

It was going to be a long naptime.

*******

It felt like years had passed by the time Havoc decided to finally wake. Call, who had successfully stayed awake the entire time, grouchily shifted his half-lidded gaze toward the dog.

“Good morning Sleeping Beauty.” he said. 

Havoc licked his hand in response before stretching each of his hind legs delicately. Call had definitely compared him to the right thing, considering his over-the-top mannerisms. Once Havoc was finished, both stood and exited ‘their’ guestroom.

Neither wasted any time on starting the long trek up the staircase. They had been staying at a door fairly close to the bottom, and looking up, it seemed like they would have to pass about one hundred more doors before reaching the top. Call blinked his eyes hard and tried to withhold a tantrum. 

What sort of idiot architect built this sort of damn place?! 

Call really wanted to shoot everything in sight, excluding Havoc of course, just to spite everyone and everything. He felt rage tear through him and unconsciously began to pick at the charred skin on his arm. Unlike the other deeper cuts the Alura Une had healed, the burn he had received had not been healed. In fact, the wound wasn't even blistering. Call wasn't thinking too hard about it’s lack of healing, because the stinging sensation it was emitting distracted him from the burning pain of his bad leg. He really needed help. Help or a gallon of painkillers, either would work. The farther up they went, the more searing and urgent the pain became. Each step was like plunging further into hell. And then it hit him.

They had walked up over half way up the stairs and a delightful smell permeated the air. It was spicy, warm, and meaty. Call couldn't help but stop and inhale deeply, the aroma was driving him crazy. Havoc too seemed to catch a whiff, and both boys didn't walk a step further. They took to running up the remaining steps, their hunger the only factor pushing them to such lengths. 

Reaching the top, Call stared ahead voraciously, and found his eyes settling on a small figure. It was a skeleton, who was small in stature and dressed in a fancy tuxedo. On one arm he held a towel, and in the other, a steaming plate of curry and rice. Call salivated at the sight of it. Any fear at the sight of a monster had completely dissipated in the face of Call’s all-encompassing hunger. 

“Come here…” Call whispered in a low and gentle voice, “Just give us the curry, and we won’t attack.”

The skeleton waiter clacked his jaw-bone softly, as if in response and began to walk forward slowly. Call couldn't help but think the fellow was endearing. As he walked closer, Call could practically taste the spicy goodness settling on his tongue. The skeleton waiter was only a few feet ahead of him, when a figure came swooping in from nowhere. Call’s eyes scarcely caught the action. The figure collided with the waiter, sending both him and the plate of curry to the floor in one fatal swoosh. Havoc was on the spilled curry in seconds, devouring it speedily. Call's eyes did not water as he watched the curry disappear. The scattered bones of the small skeleton littered the floor, and the figure who had caused all the chaos in the first place stood, heroically. Like he had done something good.

“Are you alright?” he asked kindly. 

Call wanted to shoot a million bullets into his pretty smiling face. Despite the fact that the boy that stood in front of him was obviously taller, better built, and most likely fully able to plummet him, Call’s rage knew no bounds. 

“You-You-!” Call sputtered pathetically. He was about to cry about a plate of spilled curry, and he didn't care a bit about how pitiful he looked. “That was my curry…” his voice cracked, “That was _my_ curry you mothe-”

Call had taken a step further, ready to shove his gun into the blonde boy’s face, but his body had violently rejected the idea. In the blonde’s hand was none other than the metal whip that Asian kid had hit Call with. His burned arm pulsed to life, the wound throbbing like it had been recently inflicted. Suddenly Call’s heart was clenched by an unbridled sense of fear. He had wanted to fight this guy, but suddenly his body simply turned tail and ran? 

“I’m sorry about your curry, but uhm-” 

The boy didn't have a chance to finish as Call bolted in the opposite direction. He didn't know what took over him, but whenever the whip was within his vicinity all he wanted to do was get as far away as possible no matter what. He tripped over himself as he hurriedly began descending the stairs. Call didn't need to glance back to know the blonde was following him. His body kept pushing him to keep going, to get as far away from the other as possible. 

“Stop running!” he heard the other boy call out. 

The blonde easily caught up with Call’s exhausted half-limp down the stairs and tried to pull Call to a stop. Call was having none of it.

“Don't touch me!” Call hissed, shoving the other boy hard. The blonde clearly looked taken aback.

It was at that moment that Call realized shoving people while running down a long flight of stairs, was not the smartest course of action. The blonde, obviously caught unaware by the shove, clung onto him to maintain balance. And Call, who could barely carry his own one-hundred twenty pounds, could surely not carry the other boy. He crumbled underneath their combined weight, tumbling into a heap of flailing limbs. Both boys clung to each other as they tumbled down the flight of stairs, Havoc following after them barking. 

Their bodies slammed together like rag dolls, and when they finally reached the end of the staircase, they landed with so much force they broke the splintered wood planks and tumbled into the darkness below.


	11. Feasting with Friend or Foe?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I have later chapters planned, but I dont know why introductions are so hard for me to write... I am sorry it took so long... The plot is held at a pause while Aaron and Call meet.... Also Tamara and Jasper will be joining them soon... On a side note, I just read the golden tower and... I, to say to in the least, was not fond of it...

Call’s entire body severely ached, - it was as if he had fallen down seven flights of stairs- but wait, he had fallen down a flight of stairs. He had fallen quite far actually, probably damaging his already less-than-sufficient head, and whatever else that had been working before. He groaned. 

Attempting to stand seemed futile with the other boy collapsed on him, and Call immediately knew what it meant for himself. It meant it was _his_ body that had broken the fall. He was probably in for a world of pain when he stood up, if he even was able to . He felt like he should be slightly mad that the other used him as a pillow, but considering the fact it was his fault they even ended up falling, he decided to kindly forgive that factor. 

A horrific thought flashed across Call’s mind.

What if he had killed this guy? And what if he was Tamara’s partner? He would have slaughtered opportunities of both food and friendship in one go. That was a new low even for Call.

Struck by a slight sense of worry, he immediately rose to his bruised elbows and surveyed the blonde boy. Debris littered his back, and dust matted his hair, yet nothing too grave seemed to have befallen him. The heaviest thing that had fallen probably was him, and he had landed on Call, so obviously he was alive...right?

Call was too weak to flip him and check his pulse, so he opted to tapping his cheek with the back of his finger. 

“Hey… You're not dead right?” Call asked, not expecting a reply.

What he really didn't expect was for the boy to jerk upright, staring intently ahead. Green eyes met silver and time seemed to freeze. While Call really wasn't overly fond of staring contests, he just couldn't seem to break eye-contact this time. He blamed it on the fact that the boy sitting on him probably could have been Captain America’s son, and just quite possibly, the most attractive guy he had ever seen. With blonde hair, an upturned nose, and perhaps the prettiest green eyes ever, not to mention his good build, this guy had clearly been made with God’s utmost attention. And Call, well, he wasn't jealous at all. Nope, not one bit. 

Call blamed his sour attitude on lack of sleep and curry. Missing that sort of stuff could kill a person's optimism instantly. Take himself for instance.. 

"Did you hit your head on the way down, or do you just like staring at people?" Call questioned, though he was genuinely beginning to wonder if his own head was okay or not. 

"Oh uh r-right… Sorry." the boy stuttered, scrambling out of his initial position to right himself. 

As the blonde stood and started dusting himself off, Call turned his attention to the place they had fallen. The creepy wallpaper was gone, replaced by sturdy stone walls, which reminded Call of the first area he had entered in through. The only difference was the fact that these walls were barred by metal rods, making it look as if they were imprisoned within. 

In all honesty, Call was pretty sure they were stuck in Dracula’s castle until Tamara and her partner killed someone. That was what she had said right?

Shaking his head tiredly, Call continued his examination of the surrounding area. Blue flames illuminated the nearby stone, sending creeping shadows along the already darkened walls and Call thought he caught a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, but his attention was quickly brought to the hand that reached out to him. It was the blonde’s hand. 

“Aaron Stewart,” the boy introduced, flashing him a one-hundred kilowatt smile. Call almost squinted at the brightness of his grin. No one should be that happy in Dracula’s castle, “I’m sorry about chasing you, I didn't mean to scare you, but that Skeleton Waiter you were approaching could have seriously hurt you!” Aaron exclaimed.

“What is he gonna do? Toss curry at me?” Call asked incredulously. Any mention of the delectable curry was eating away at Call’s mind, and the only thing that should have been eaten was the curry in the first place. And not solely by Havoc.

When Aaron began to nod earnestly, Call stifled a laugh at the thought of Aaron of all people being chased by mini curry-throwing skeletons, and decided to drop the subject altogether. He should be much too hungry to care.

“Okay Aaron, two questions before you bombard me with yours,” Call started, efficiently shutting up the blonde before he could even start, “First, do you know Tamara and-”

“You’ve met Tamara?!” 

Okay, well that hadn't been too hard. 

“Yeah, but more importantly, please tell me you have more than one slice of bread to eat right now?” He was going to die if he waited even five minutes more.

Aaron looked at him oddly, as if such a statement had never graced his ears before, which it probably hadn't, but didn't question any further.

"I have a lot more than just one piece of bread." he assured.

Thankfully, Aaron carried all his belongings in a single bag, rather than a million tiny pouches like Tamara. Call really hoped that meant he would find the food faster.

Turning back to the shadowed wall, Call strained his eyes, searching for the movement his eyes had caught earlier. It only took a second before he found a familiar shape slumped at the base of the wall, kicking his paws occasionally. It was Havoc, who was so deep asleep, he twitched randomly, sending his shadow dancing across the wall. Call sighed fondly.

After watching the wolf doze for a few minutes, Call turned his attention back to Aaron. Seeing as he was still shuffling through his bag, Call fleetingly decided to start some small talk, but Aaron beat him to it.

“I didn't seem to catch your name.” he said, pulling multiple containers from his bag.

“Callum.” Call responded absentmindedly. He didn't know why, but the contents of those containers seemed a lot more important than anything that came from the blonde’s mouth. 

Aaron popped open the containers in what seemed like slow-motion, and Call watched in complete euphoria as different aromas greeted his nose. Pizza, steamed-buns, gyros, _curry_. Call’s eyes were as wide as saucers. 

“I’ve been collecting everything I find, so there is plenty of variety…” Aaron’s words trailed off as he watched Call’s arm shoot out, at a bullet’s speed, to snatch a slice of pizza. Call himself didn't even know he had moved forward.

Call would apologize for his bad table manners in a moment, first he needed to eat.

Sinking his teeth into the crispy crust, Call actually thought he ascended to heaven for a moment. The cheesy greasiness coated his mouth in its pleasant flavour, mixing with the slight sweetness from the tomato sauce… Call never knew pizza could taste so good. 

Call felt Aaron’s staring at him in the beginning, but the other quickly joined in on his feasting, clearly just as starved as Call had felt. By the end of his gorging, Call had eaten three large slices of pizza, two-steamed buns, an omelette, and three large scoops of ice-cream. Maybe he should have held back and only eaten two scoops. 

On a brighter note, Aaron’s containers didn't look like they had depleted at all in the end, and Call was glad because there was a lot more where that came from.

Having finally got the life energy he had lacked for days, Call’s mind whirred back to life...Slightly. 

“Thanks,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck lamely. Better late than never, “You just saved a cripple’s life, the government should owe you.”

Aaron chuckled at that, his green eyes meeting Call’s. 

“Yeah, well it's kind of my job…” he said, his eyes falling downcast, before flashing back upwards. It was brief, but Call caught the movement. He wondered what it meant. 

It was a sad kind of look, Call decided, and being the nice kid he was, decided to change the subject. Dracula’s castle was hellishly depressing as it was, it didn't need any help. 

“So can you prove you actually are Tamara’s partner?” Call asked.

Okay, maybe that wasn't the nicest, but he had to survive too. Now that his head was working, agreeing to eat an entire feast with a stranger didn't exactly add up as being the smartest thing to do. It sounded like something a child-kidnapper would do. Not that Aaron was one, but like Call had been saying the entire time, it _was_ Dracula’s Castle afterall.

Aaron seemed to think about his response for a moment, placing a contemplative hand underneath his chin. 

“When Tamara gets annoyed with you she does this…” Aaron maneuvered his eyebrows with difficulty and tried to squint his eyes into a malice-laden glare, “this thing with her eyebrows.” he tried to explain, using his hands and face in an attempt to recreate her expression.

Call stared at the ridiculous expression that adorned the blonde's face. It only took a moment before he doubled over in laughter. Aaron’s expression had been so absurd, yet Call could tell he was trying really hard to prove his claim. And the funniest part of all was the fact he had actually looked like her for a split second. Call distinctly remembered her making such an expression when he had mentioned Christopher Lee.

Forget it, his head still wasn't working. It never had and it never was. Aaron probably thought he was a total nutcase.

“I get it!” Call choked out, after his bout of mirthful laughter. 

Aaron lowered his head a bit bashfully when Call was finished with his dramatics, but he looked overall more happy than he had a few moments before. Call didn't take Aaron as the type to laugh at himself, so the improvement was a bit random, but he went with it. 

Call could work with this.


	12. Endless Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Im late, I was trying to do weekly updates but this is a long chapter in my pathetic defense... ^^;;; Crestoria just came out, and as a Tales of fan, I couldnt help it!! Im sorry!!! Also one last sorry for the dumb chapter title, I didnt know what to call it :p

After eating, Call finally felt like he had enough strength to try and stand on both feet. Havoc, sensing Call's intention, rose from his slumber and trotted over to his masters left side, fully ready to support him. 

Call bit his lip, fully immersed in the complications that came with standing. The last thing he wanted was to look weak in front of Aaron. The other boy had gotten up in a single graceful step, and while "graceful" was far beyond Call, he could at least try “normal”, which wasn't nearly as far of a stretch.

Placing a steadying hand on Havoc's scruff, he wobbled and rose to his feet trembling. Havoc sidled closer to him, pushing against his leg in encouragement.

Call really loved his pup.

Aaron, who had apparently been watching the entire time, was as white as a sheet. It was as if he had seen a ghost. Call bitterly wondered if it was because of his pathetic display. Acid burned in the pit of his stomach at the thought. Aaron had been nice, but it wasn't too late to show his true jerk colours. It was never too late for anybody.

"C-Callum," Aaron was grabbing for something on his belt, but his hand came back empty, “You know there is a _warg_ standing right next to you!”

It took a few moments to really process what the other had said. To start, it hadn't been about Call at all, in fact, the cause of Aaron’s current anxiety was none other than Havoc. Sweet, innocent, young, and very un-intimidating Havoc. The last part Call was trying to understand was whether or not Aaron was asking a question or stating a fact. 

He wasn't really doing a very good job at deciphering that last part. 

“Havoc isn't a warg, he’s my dog.” 

_I thought we were in Twilight, not The Lord of the Rings_ , thought Call dully. Aaron continued to stare at him blankly.

“That-that's your dog?” Aaron repeated, eyeing the wolf dubiously. 

“Yes, he is,” Call deadpanned, “And could you quit looking at him like that? He has feelings too, you know.”

Call looked at Havoc who was currently wagging his tail excitedly. The dog could obviously tell he was the topic of conversation and was bathing in the attention, but obviously couldn't truly understand the extent of it. 

Call actually couldn't help but smile a bit, Havoc could be pretty darn cute when he wanted to be.

Aaron on the other hand quickly averted his gaze and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Did Tamara see your...dog?” he asked.

“No, she didn’t, but that was cause’ Havoc wasn't with me at that time,” Call explained, “A few nights ago, Havoc ran away, and I followed his tracks here, and only found him chained up a few hours ago.”

“Your ‘dog’ probably came here because his man-eating brothers called him back.” Aaron argued.

His statement unconsciously sent Call back to the time in the forest with Alistair. The fear and confusion that he had successfully locked in the back of his mind quickly came rushing to the forefront of his brain, clouding his thoughts. Call bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted iron.

As much as he wanted to blow Aaron’s opinion off, he couldn't because there was a chance he wasn't wrong. Havoc had specifically ran away on the night of a solar eclipse, and it was on this same night that his dad tried his hardest to keep him inside. It was like they both knew about something and didn't bother to tell Call about it. But now he knew what they had been hiding, the existence of Dracula's castle.

Call swallowed thickly. 

The only piece that was missing was his own involvement. Why had Alastair tried so hard to keep him from this place? The simple answer was obviously to keep him safe, to keep him from being mauled to death by monsters. But Call knew in the core of himself that things couldn't have been so straightforward. 

When Havoc’s tail bumped against his leg, he suddenly remembered that he had been holding a conversation with someone. Call secretly hoped he didn't look as shaky as felt. 

“As if.” he bit back. “Look, if Havoc really wanted to kill you, don't you think he would have done it when we were passed out?”

Aaron seemed to contemplate his words and then cast a sympathetic gaze towards the shorter boy.

The seemingly pitiful gaze made Call’s blood boil. 

“Look, Callum-” Aaron started.

“ _Call._ ” 

“Call, look, I’m not trying to play the bad guy here, okay? There are a lot of monsters around, and the last thing I want to do is to put either of us in more danger than we already are in. I'm just trying to protect us both here okay?”

Call scoffed.

“Well I just want to protect him,” he said, motioning towards the ecstatic puppy.

Aaron gave Call a very strained look.

With Aaron unwilling to back down, Call simply knew he couldn't be the first one to yield. Call would stare until his eyes reddened and shed tears. He could stare forever if he wanted. When Aaron finally blinked, Call knew he had won their intense stare-off. That, and that he could finally blink again. His eyes really had begun to water.

“Okay Call, I guess I’ll have to trust you both for now...” the blonde relented, “Your dog won’t bite right?”

Call smirked toothily.

“Havoc doesn't bite but I sure as hell do.”

Aaron’s eyes widened at Call’s bold declaration, his neck twisting so fast, Call thought it might snap. It didn't, it instead served to hide the blonde’s expression as he muttered some affirmation under his breath. Call couldn't even catch what exactly he had muttered.

Aaron then proceeded to poke at the fallen debris that littered the ground, in search of something or another. 

Call turned to Havoc, completely baffled. Had his comment really been so shocking that Aaron turned away, completely repulsed? Or could it be that Aaron really believed him? 

Call’s eyes lingered on the seared flesh of his arm, his memories resurfacing. He had been called a ‘vampire’ and now he was making jokes about biting people. Call gulped nervously, wondering why his brain suddenly decided to connect the two thoughts. 

Call decided to quickly save what was left of his untarnished reputation and squatted next to Aaron, pretending to aid in his search. 

“I uh, don't actually bite people.” Call reassured the blonde after a few seconds of sitting within his vicinity. He tried to naturally accentuate his teeth, to prove they were truly blunt when he spoke, but he wasn't sure if it worked. He didn't understand why he felt such a need to disprove the fact that he was a vampire, after all it wasn't like Aaron knew about the Asian kid or any such accusations. But it was all in favour of being cautious, he told himself.

Call swallowed nervously when Aaron mumbled another response, his face still turned opposite of his own. Call wondered if he had accidentally encroached upon some hidden childhood trauma that included biting and vampires. Call chewed his lip in thought, trying not-very subtly to change the conversation.

“So what exactly are you looking for?” he asked. 

Aaron did turn his face this time, yet there was no trace of the negative emotions Call had originally suspected. There was, however, a mischievous glint in Aaron’s eye when he spoke.

“I’m looking for my whip,” Aaron replied, pausing a moment to scan Call’s face before continuing, “What are you looking for?”

It was Call’s turn for his eyes to widen. He hadn't really expected to be called out, and now he needed to come up with something fast to save his ever-decaying pride. He needed to think of something cunning or witty, but neither his warming cheeks nor Aaron's ever-present stare were helping to meet that end. Aaron should really just stop staring at people in general actually, that would probably help on more levels than one. 

"Havoc." Call stated.

"Havoc?"

"Havoc, he uh, he lost his...collar. I've been looking for his collar." Call said. It sounded fake even to his own ears.

Havoc, having heard his name said many times, quickly trotted over to the duo happily. After nosing at Call's hand, to which the boy gave a slightly perplexed and pleading look to the pup, he decided to investigate the other figure sitting nearby. 

Aaron froze as Havoc neared him, staring at the dog with owlishly round eyes. Havoc gently sniffed his hand and then sat expectantly in front of the blonde, staring at him earnestly.

Call groaned aloud, his earlier embarrassment completely forgotten.

"Dear god! Please tell me you're not about to hold a staring contest with Havoc too?! "

Aaron quickly diverted his gaze to look at Call, obviously taken aback.

"What do you mean by staring contests??" Aaron asked, before glancing nervously at Havoc again, "Is he looking at me like that for a reason?"

Call didn't know if he felt like laughing or crying. He settled for something in between.

"Look, Havoc just wants you to pat his head." Call muttered in a slightly dejected manner. Aaron's first question didn't even deserve a response.

Aaron hesitantly reached to pat Havoc's head lightly. And it was as if a miracle happened, because Aaron actually began to smile. He rubbed Havoc's head purposefully after the first pat, grinning boyishly as the wolf nuzzled closer to him. 

When Aaron smiled it was as if the weariness that had lined his face dissolved, returning him to the pure and untouched time of his youth. It was then, Call realized, that Aaron couldn't have been much older than him. Give or take a few years, if any at all, and they might have shared the same class at school. The thought made Call unknowingly sorrowful for some reason. 

While he was feeling a bit sad for the other boy, Call felt mostly exasperatedly relieved and salty. 

_What a combination of emotions_ he thought to himself dryly. 

The ‘exasperatedly relieved’ part stemmed from the frustration of having Havoc’s attention on someone other than himself, while the ‘relieved’ part came from Aaron's kind act of not kicking Havoc away. The gruff-looking wolf happened to have a sensitive heart.

The last and most intense emotion, though, derived itself from the very pit of Call’s soul. The place was a stew of angry, bitter, and negative emotions, whose only joy was to suck the very joy out of him. And the sentiment that decided to rear its ugly head that day, was a vile mix of bitterness and jealousy, or to say it plainly: saltiness.

Call chewed his lip thoughtfully, maybe he had been going a little overboard about how salty he felt, but he was but a traumatized kid, and Havoc was _his_ dog. 

“Well, I’m glad _that_ developed fast.” Call said aloud and quite unenthusiastically. “Shouldn't we be getting a move on or something?”

Aaron actually had the gall to giggle as Havoc licked his face, but he quickly straightened up at Call’s words. He stood up, (apparently done looking for his whip, which Call was very grateful for) dusted his vest off, and looked at Call childishly. 

“Your right,” Aaron said, before patting Havoc on the head twice, “You were just- he- Havoc, he really is a really friendly dog. I wasn't expecting him to be so nice...or fluffy.”

Call felt pride swell within himself. He had spent more minutes trying to wash Havoc in the demon bathhouse than himself, and the fact that it actually paid off was good to know. 

“Yeah well, you can thank Dracula’s amazing plumbing system.” Call casually said, walking as he spoke. “I don't think I ever washed him- or even myself in such a big bathtub.”

As Call walked ahead, he didn't realize Aaron wasn't following behind him. The blonde was too busy gaping in shock at Call’s most recent statement.

“You took a bath in this place?!” Aaron gasped.

Call spun around on his foot, watching as Aaron’s expression contorted into shock. He then began to slowly walk backward, making sure to keep Aaron within his view.

“Yeah, I know it's crazy, but we were both covered in blood and-”

“I thought you weren't injured!” Aaron exclaimed, staring at Call.

Call vaguely remembered his idea of ‘not telling anyone anything’. There would have to be changes to his original dumb plan, but he would still have to hide some things. Constantine and his burn were high on that list. 

“Well, it's a long story-”

Call’s words were forgotten as he cried out in surprise. He had been walking backward, only to find there was no path for his foot to fall upon. Call thought he had slipped over a small pothole but instead found the entirety of the stone pathway cut short. He was falling, he realized. But it was only for a moment, as he plunged deeply into a perilous black body of water.

Bubbles swirled around Call as he fell into the endlessly dark pool. It was so piercingly cold he felt his skin begin to sting and his body began to shake, but that was by far the least concerning thing. Call could feel the water around him moving, it was as if a current was pushing against him, yet if this was a secluded body of water within the castle, there shouldn't have been a current. Call struggled fruitlessly as he tried to swim to the top of the water.

The only explanation was that there was something else in the water with him. It had to have been large enough to create the current, and it was swimming straight toward him.


	13. The Power of Dominance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is 98% dialogue and I dont like it very much. I am sorry, I dont think you will BUt I had to shove the mystery man in somewhere cause he was actually supposed to appear like 3 chapters ago... And then Aaron happened and kinda just took 2 chapters to himself... Anyway Boss battle next chapter and hopefully Jasper and Tamara in the chapter after that...!! Call will figure out more in detail abt his power, just by himself... the explanation is Vague on purpose.. I swear Im done rambling....^^^;;; 
> 
> Who do you guys think the mystery Man is??? I changed his character from in the book, cuz while I think he was villainous and evil, he coulda been a little more too....

Call pushed his entire body up as fast as he could manage, he wasn't going to wait around to get turned into fish food. Even if he was almost paralyzed by fear, his lungs needed fresh air, and fast. 

As Call fervently swam, his eyes caught sight of movement in his peripheral vision. While the movement seemed small, the current that pushed him backwards said otherwise. The realization sent Call’s mind into a flurry of terror. He struggled to swim higher and higher, his arms and legs moving faster than ever, but even reaching the top of the pool offered no reprieve. 

A thick layer of ice covered the shore, leaving Call trapped beneath it’s unforgiving surface. He wasted no time in pounding on the ice with all his might, in hope to break it, or to alert Aaron to his location, but alas, neither did the ice splinter nor did Aaron show up. Call heard his own heart pounding fiercely in his own ears. With a monster at his tail and oxygen running low, he was getting exceedingly more frightened for his life. In his last throes of desperation, Call pulled his father’s gun from his belt and shot at the ice incessantly. The holes it created were small, unhelpful even, but Call didn't stop shooting. 

His time was up. Bubbles floated everywhere around him as his mouth opened, gasping for the oxygen it couldn't separate from the hydrogen molecules that surrounded him. As water began to fill his lungs, he thrashed the ice for a last time, only to find a long crack form above. Call threw the entirety of his body against it, listening thankfully as he heard the remaining ice crack and fall away. Using the last of his strength, he pulled himself from the treacherous black sea and collapsed on the thick ice sheet.

Having finally reached solid ground, Call coughed forcefully in his efforts to expel the water from his lungs. His body seemed to shake violently as shivers racked the entirety of his frame and small crystalline patches of frost blossomed on his skin.

It might have been cool if he hadn't been watching his own body practically freeze. That stole away any sense of cool-ness. 

Call tried to stand, after all, what better way to combat frost than to get the blood in his body pumping. However, his attempt failed miserably as his legs wobbled under his weight, the fear and frost still debilitating his movements. He didn't fall, however; his arm was caught by a strong hand. It held him upright in a firm, yet not painful grip. 

Call glanced upwards to find an unfamiliar man standing before him. He was tall, taller than Alistair, and had a thin elongated nose. His face was lined with age, but Call doubted it hindered the man’s strength. The guy looked like a russian hitman, for crying out loud.

He would need both Aaron and Havoc’s help to defeat such a tough looking opponent, but neither of them seemed to be within the icy enclosure. Call was very alone.

“W-Who are _you_?” Call croaked, his eyes searching frantically for his gun. The man found it first and kicked it away, sending the gun skittering across the ice noisily. The young boy watched as his last chance of survival slowly fell away. 

_Dammit!_ Call cursed in his head. Having escaped both a sea monster and drowning, he just had to go and get caught by some older creepy dude.

"The importance of who I am, is quickly forgotten in the face of such great power," the man said. His voice was gravelly and low, and Call mostly just felt glad he hadn't pulled out any life threatening weapons yet.

"You're talking about the giant fish...right?" Call asked, he hadn't really expected him to reveal his identity anyway. He could pretend to be civil. It wasn't like his mouth ever got him in trouble.

The man chuckled darkly, but his eyes held no amusement. He looked just about ready to skin Call alive and sell his internal organs on the black market. Or maybe just brutally murder him, but it didn't really matter considering he would be dead in both situations.

“No, Callum, I am talking about you,” the man replied coolly. “The dark powers you possess dominate everything in this castle, just as they are meant to.”

“How do you know my name? And what are you talking about ‘dark powers’?? I'm just a normal kid,” Call said. He was no longer feeling as scared, but rather more confused. This was practically the last thing he had been expecting.

"Your name is just a miniscule detail within the hoards of knowledge I contain… But there is no time for that now, " the man said, pausing to examine Call hungrily. 

Call very suddenly wished he was back swimming with the sea monster while simultaneously drowning. 

"You see Callum, the power you command is called 'The Power of Dominance'," he explained, ever watchful of Call's face. "After defeating the soul of any monster within the castle, you claim it." 

Call's mouth hung open.

"So you think _I_ have magic? Look, even if I did believe you, there's absolutely no reason for me to trust you or anything you say."

"No, boy, I am telling you you have magic!" Call almost flinched as his tone grew harsher and the man immediately spoke in a softer tone. "Callum, do you remember when the Alura Une came and healed you?"

Call nodded solemnly, his earlier burst of confidence completely drained.

"That is because, having defeated her before, you were able to dominate her soul and use it to your benefit."

Call’s mind began to shudder to life. If this man had apparently seen Call find Havoc, he obviously must have been hiding in the room before he got there. He must have been the despicable person to have hit his dog. His mind was reeling.

"Were you the one who chained up Havoc?! Are you the one who hurt him?!" Call asked, enraged.

"All things happen for a purpose Callum," the man said, beginning to walk away.

Call did not feel particularly inclined to stop him in search of answers. The man had practically just admitted to beating his dog and blamed it on fate. He deserved a bullet in the face.

The man stopped abruptly, and he turned once more to face the young boy. Call stopped inching towards his gun.

"After the defeat of Rahab, you will obtain his soul and acquire the power to breathe underwater. That is when you will know I have spoken truthfully," he smiled creepily at the boy. "And if I were in your position, I wouldn't be overly friendly with the Belmonts, when it comes to dark magic, they don't seem to think so much as kill."

Call swallowed thickly.

“Yeah? Well you think I’m gonna get friendly with a dog-abuser then?”

When Call looked up to see if the man had heard his comment, he had already disappeared. The walls of the room seemed to shake after the mysterious man’s departure, and Call watched the sealed stone slowly rise to give way to the hallway he had originally fallen out of. It looked like something from an Indiana Jones movie.

But more importantly, both Aaron and Havoc were awaiting for him on the other side. As soon as Aaron caught sight of him, he jumped onto the ice delicately and dashed toward him. Havoc, although a bit more distressed about jumping on ice, followed after him eagerly. Call would be lying if that didn't warm his heart just a little bit. Just Havoc though, Aaron was still new and mostly weird.

“I’m okay guys, no need to slip and rush over-”

Aaron didn't seem to have any trouble keeping balance on the ice sheet, and upon reaching Call, quickly grabbed his face in both hands efficiently shutting the other boy up.

“Call, your lips are turning blue!” he exclaimed, staring intently at his lips. 

Call hadn't realized just how cold he had felt until Aaron had placed his warm hands on his face. He might have felt embarrassed about it, but considering the fact- wait no that was definitely embarrassing. Aaron was probably just a touchy guy. Call’s tongue quickly darted past his lips, testing to see how damaged his tissue was. When he only felt a slight pang, he sighed in relief.

He missed Aaron’s observant gaze.

“Yeah, it's just frostbite, I should be fine. Let’s just get out of this place already. Oh and could you get your hands off my face?”

Aaron’s hand’s dropped like they had been burned. Maybe they had been, after all ice could burn too, but Call didn't ask too much. He was too busy embracing Havoc. His warmth was welcome.


	14. Rahab, Dragon of the Seas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okkk, so long chapter + early update cause' last chapter was short and blegh. About this certain boss... Rahab was quite easy and cute in the actual game... I beat him on my first try so I changed his design, attacks and all that... If you google Rahab and Castlevania a cute purple looking tuna will pop up... Not the coolest so yeah... I actually cut this chapter short cause it got SO Long and I hope that despite the fact it is 98% fight scene it will read ok... Thank you for reading !! ;_;
> 
> NExt up is Jasper and Tamara

The touching reunion didn't last anywhere near as long as Call had hoped. The ice underneath them suddenly began to shake, sending tiny splinters of frost everywhere. Call watched it for a moment before a mild shock went through him.

"There's a giant fish underneath us."

Aaron raised his bowed head, on his face was a slightly perplexed look.

"What?" he asked.

Call had barely opened his mouth to respond when the ice cracked along with any lasting serenity. He had thought the ice sheet was too thick to be cracked by a fish, but apparently he had underestimated the beast... Or overestimated the ice, considering the trouble he had gone through to break it.

The fish, -rather the serpentine monstrosity- had broken through the ice sheet easily with its armoured beak and was currently leaping over both himself and Aaron. It’s toughened body easily shattered the ice on the opposite side of the room, falling in a similar way to a dancer’s ribbon… Only this was neither delicate nor beautiful. It felt like minutes had passed before the entire length of the monster had disappeared back into the water. The force of it’s jump was so powerful, it smashed through the remaining sheet of ice, separating Call and Havoc from Aaron. Call couldn't help but feel overwhelmed at the sight.

“Rahab isn't a fish, Call!” Aaron called out from his frosty platform. The blonde quickly unsheathed his sword, gazing around the surrounding water nervously. “Just leave this one to me! If you stay back, he shouldn’t attack you!”

Seeing that Aaron wasn't unarmed without the hell-whip, made Call feel slightly more at ease, as did the fact he seemed so confident, but when Rahab emerged once again, Call felt his skin prickle with fear. Aaron and his cool sword looked like an ant readying a twig in defence of a giant. The image wasn't the least bit comforting.

Rahab towered high above the black pool, even though Call could still see the majority of his body remained hidden in the blackened depths. His body was as long as his girth was wide, and as if to top it off, the entirety of his flesh was covered in metallic armoured scales. His dorsal fin was spiked in a wicked manner, fit to slice any unfortunate person who tried to get near his backside. He was near impenetrable.

Call tried desperately to search for some weak point, or anything of the like, but was quickly distracted as Rahab opened his jaws. A pillar of snow and ice shot from the monster’s maw. Pure frost covered the area where Aaron had previously stood, and a deafening loud roar resounded within the room, causing the icicles that had covered the ceiling to drop carelessly. Both Havoc and Call dived within the freezing water in an attempt to dodge the spear-like projectiles. They narrowly escaped. 

Having been forcefully reintroduced to the unforgiving depths, Call was finally given a moment to try to think. Hopefully Aaron could hold Rahab off for a bit on his own. Not that Call had been being the most helpful anyway.

His first thought was of arming himself. Peering around the murky depths, a faint glimmer of silver caught his eye. Alistair’s silver gun. He was glad he had caught sight of it before it could have fallen any deeper, lest he lose his father’s last memento. Once he had obtained his firearm, he quickly swam to the shore, reuniting with both Havoc and oxygen. Call waded in place, taking into account the situation.

Things weren’t looking so good… Aaron was constantly flipping backwards, unable to get close enough to even land a single strike, and even his flips didn't seem to go back far enough. Rahab was so gigantic, nothing seemed to evade his all-encompassing body. The blonde finally caught onto this fact, and braced himself as the beast began to swipe at him. Instead of dodging like he had previously, Aaron used the force of the attack to cling onto the monster’s back. Call saw the error within his actions immediately. 

“Aaron-! Don't-! His spiked fin-!”

But his words were swallowed by the shriek that followed. Aaron’s hand had been sliced through completely. Despite the pained cry, he didn't stop moving. With his good hand he gripped his sword, and cleaved the spike from the monster’s back, efficiently freeing his injured hand. Within the same second Aaron discarded his own sword, instead using the carved bone as his new weapon, and struck down between the plated metal scales with as much force as he could manage. 

It was Rahab’s turn to roar, all while he flailed wildly in an effort to dislodge his own bone from his back. The bone stayed lodged quite firmly, but Aaron was flung from his back like a ragdoll. Call watched in horror as the blonde hit the surface of the water with a small splash. His fallen form resembled a forlorn stone, carelessly tossed away to be lost to the ages of time. Only Call couldn't lose Aaron just yet. He needed to move fast, he needed to save Aaron. 

Call dived into the water and swam as fast as he could. His muscles were numb with cold, but he ignored the soreness in favour of saving the other. Before he had dived he had watched an enraged Rahab also dive after the blond. Call could only hope he would reach him first. Beating a one hundred meter sea-monster didn't exactly add up to being plausible, but who was he to listen to reason? The entirety of Dracula’s castle seemed to defy it anyway.

Call reached Aaron just as Rahab’s bulky form swam forward, his mouth wide. Rows and rows of dagger-like teeth lined the inside of his mouth, illuminated only by the reflection of water against his silver gun. The sight made Call’s blood turn to ice, but he didn't have time to dwell on his overcoming fear. A strong force was dragging both Call and Aaron toward Rahab’s awaiting jaws. He was sucking them into his mouth. 

Call didn't even bother with the implications of what was going on, he only knew he wanted to get Aaron away. Using all the strength he could muster, he shoved the other’s unconscious body as hard as he could. Which apparently was pretty hard considering Aaron’s body floated a small distance away. His shove wasn't enough to combat the force of the current, however, and slowly but surely Aaron’s limp body began to float back towards Rahab’s jaws. As if on cue, Havoc nabbed the rim of Aaron’s collared jacket and paddled away at a steady speed. 

The relief that washed through Call was indescribable, and for a single tranquil moment, he felt a certain peace wash over him at the sight of Havoc swimming away with Aaron’s unconscious form. The moment ended far too quickly. Call quickly regained his senses, now he was the one about to fall into Rahab’s menacing maw. Only this time, there was no one to shove him out of the way.

The water pushed Call far enough down the monster’s throat to avoid him being squashed into nothingness within his massive jaws. The temperature inside of the monster’s body seemed to drop even lower, almost paralysing Call with hypothermia. The thought made Call silently grateful he hadn't fallen into the mouth of a fire-breathing dragon. He definitely would have been toast if that was the case.

Call felt himself falling once again as Rahab began to move. The water pushed him further down the monster’s throat no matter how hard he tried to cling to the saliva coated walls. The repulsive thought combined with the stench of rot made him feel dangerously nauseous, but he regained his senses instantly as he felt a piercing sensation in his upper thighs. He had landed on something. The sensation was pain, he realized after the remaining water washed over him. Both the feeling of pain and presence of oxygen slightly placated his antagonized mind

Rahab had probably returned to standing upright, allowing Call to both breathe and fall in a downwards motion; landing on whatever horrible thing was currently cutting through his flesh right now.

What sort of monster had spikes on the inside of its throat?

Aaron’s heroic actions flashed through Call’s mind in response and he audibly gasped. He had landed on the sharp bone Aaron had cut from Rahab’s back, which he had graciously shoved back in. A sickly idea formed in Call’s mind… If Rahab was impenetrable from the outside, then it was only fair for his inside to be weak. 

From his position, he lowered himself with difficulty until his feet landed on an indent within the beast’s esophagus. From there he placed his hands on the underside of the bone, and pushed. The bone cut through his palms, sending small rivulets of blood to cascade down Call’s arms, but it froze almost as soon as it was drawn. The small observation shook Call. If he didn't cut through the entirety of Rahab’s throat, and then through his head in the next five to ten minutes, there was a chance he could drop dead from hypothermia alone. Call distinctly remembered his father telling him this, while simultaneously wrapping him in as many jackets as they owned. Call shuddered wishing he had those jackets now.

With this thought in mind, he dragged the bone further within Rahab’s esophagus, as to avoid the resistant metal plating which would definitely slow him down. He felt Rahab begin to flail once again, but the motion barely affected Call. The freezing temperature numbed all of his wounds, his injured leg included, so much that he didn't even have to think about the pain any longer. He only had to push forward. 

By the time he saw Rahab’s teeth again, Call felt as if his flesh was being set aflame. He felt so irritably hot, he wanted to rip the very clothes from his figure and dance on Rahab’s corpse naked. The thought was weird, even for Call. He didn't even like to dance, much less strip naked. Plus Aaron and Havoc were both waiting for him. The thought sobered his frost-ridden mind, and Call belatedly realized he wasn't moving anymore. The last time he heard Rahab move- or even roar felt like hours ago. 

Heedlessly, Call tore the bone from Rahab’s throat and used it to prop open his heavy maw. Rahab didn't move an inch. He was dead, Call concluded. He didn't know when he had died, but he really couldn't care less either. All that mattered was that he would never get up and trouble them again. 

Finally escaping the stinking corpse he had been trapped in for so long couldn't have done more wonders for Call’s head. The air seemed to be warmer, fresher even, and everything seemed brighter, in an odd sort of way. After his first steps onto solid ice, his legs gave out, sending Call plunging into the water for the nth time. He startled a bit as a cooling sensation overtook his burning nerves. Even the water seemed brighter, it looked more blue, more serene...Call gave a small gasp as his eyes latched onto the sight of his palms. 

The flesh was ripped hideously. It looked so mutilated Call barely recognized it as his own hands. But more terrifying than that was his breath. Just moments earlier Call had gasped, he had- and was taking steady breaths, despite the fact he was submerged almost wholly under water. Whoever that man had been, he had been right. And that fact scared Call more than he would have liked to admit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If your wondering how Rahab died, its cause Call ruptured his esophagus... He didnt know that tho ^^; Also Call was goin a little crazy cause of hypothermia but he tanks it next chapter... mostly


	15. Friendship...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Im gonna do longer chapters for longer update times, Im sorry !! Sorry for the wait, but just know I really dont plan to ever just drop or abandon this work!! I just started Order of Ecclesia, so that means more inspiration for bosses, ideas and everything so yay!! Nothing important happens in this chapter, but it somehow became long?? Jasper and Tamara have 100% arrival rate next chapter. And I think a lot of plot too... Anyway thank you so much for keeping up with this and reading!!

The realization made Call feel heavy, and the calming effect the water previously had on him seemed to dissipate, as if it had never been there before. He needed to find Havoc and Aaron quickly. They had spent enough time in this hellishly cold place. 

A well-timed bark alerted Call to their location: a single piece of ice floating on the water undisturbed. Aaron was sprawled messily on his back; his fingers dipping into the water in a haphazardly manner. Call could see the hole in the centre of his palm from his previous injury. He could see the blood dripping. Call suddenly felt glad the other boy was still unconscious. 'Quiet and suspiciously pale' Aaron was better than a 'fully-awake and obviously hurting' Aaron.

The blonde's scream really had perturbed him. Despite not wanting to admit it aloud, hearing Aaron, who had been so well kept the entire time, lose his composure and scream really did a number on his mind. 

Putting his thoughts aside, Call crossed the distance easily, pushing their temporary ice boat to the ledge opposite from where they had come in. Next came the hard part. 

Havoc, being the only one who didn't harbour any injuries, effortlessly jumped across the small opening, landing on solid ground perfectly. Call on the other hand had to somehow get both himself and Aaron across, which was definitely easier said than done. Even the small act of flipping Aaron onto his back proved difficult. 

The sight he was greeted with, however, overpowered his struggles. The ice underneath Aaron was dyed crimson with blood. 

Call almost choked. He had never seen so much blood in his life. He needed to find the source and suppress it. It couldn't have all come from his hand, that wouldn't make any sense. The young boy dropped to his knees, examining the other closely and gasped as his eyes caught sight of the injury. A large slash cut down the entirety of Aaron's chest, splitting his metal armour like it was paper. Aaron most likely obtained such an injury when he had been tossed carelessly into the sea. His body must have slightly nicked one of Rahab’s spikes. Had it been anything more than the slightest of scrapes, Call was pretty sure Aaron's organs would have been accompanying all the blood. Glancing at the sight once more, he felt his stomach flip and instinctively wet his lips. He knew what he had to do. 

Closing his eyes, he felt for the familiar tug of power, the familiar pull of magic deep within the core of himself. Although he had only done it once, the action came naturally to him. Dark magic came naturally to him. Call almost faltered in his casting as the traitorous thought protruded his mind, but he knew he had to focus on Aaron. 

It only took a moment for him to accumulate enough power to conjure her.

The Alura Une hovered above Aaron’s limp body and golden dust once again fell from her fingers, falling with a mystical sort of beauty. She didn't glance at Call this time, her focus solely trained on Aaron, just as his own was. Call couldn't help but feel as if his powers weren't so bad. It may have been dark magic, yet it was being used for a good purpose. If Aaron learned of this, he couldn't hate Call for it...Could he? Not that his opinion mattered anyway.

Call watched it for a moment longer, before a sinking realization hit him. It wasn't enough. The golden dust was falling surely, but it wasn't healing fast enough. Aaron was still losing too much blood. Call needed more power, he needed more strength. Closing his eyes, Call no longer tugged lightly at the sensation of magic, he yanked with as much force as he could muster.

The golden pollen continued to fall delicately, as if Call hadn't changed a thing at all, but upon touching Aarons skin it flickered, sealing the flesh almost instantly. Call watched intently, his grey eyes wide with horrified fascination as Aaron's tissue began to regrow. It took a moment for him to notice he was shaking. His body was trembling with the exertion of using such power, but he couldn't stop, not yet. Call spat warm blood from his mouth, crumbling into himself like a wounded animal. He just needed to maintain the spell for a moment longer. Aaron let out a soft groan.

When Aaron stirred, Call flinched, lost concentration, and released the spell immediately; a whole new wave of fatigue washed over him. 

“Call?” the blonde mumbled blearily. Aaron sat up with ease, his voice unhindered by any pain. Upon hearing Aaron’s clear voice, Call also righted his position, gazing at the other intently. Aaron’s tunic was still bloodied, but his chest was smooth. There wasn't even a scar left behind. 

“Looks pretty good to me…” Call muttered more to himself than Aaron. The blonde’s eyes resembled saucers, yet Call continued on without missing a beat. “Anyway, now that you're awake and can move yourself, let's get outta’ here.”

“Wha-Wait-! Call!” Aaron stood as Call did, following him closely as he pulled himself onto the ledge. “What about Rahab? What about- Did you kill him? Also wasn’t I injured??”

Call felt an oncoming headache ready to accompany his hypothermia and overall lethargic state. It honestly felt just about as exciting as answering Aaron’s barrage of questions. 

“Yeah, he’s dead...Could you just,” Call bit his lip, trying to force a pleasant tone, “Please start a fire before my arse freezes off? I’ll explain the details once I get feeling back in my toes.”

Aaron looked a bit taken aback, but nodded compliantly and set to making the fire. Call felt glad he got stuck with someone so easy-going. He hadn't really meant to order Aaron around, he just wanted a moment or two to factor everything in his head. That and make up plausible excuses for his magic, because Aaron didn't suddenly forget about the severe wounds he received. Call had to think fast.

Why would a nobody like him have magic? Being completely truthful with himself, even he couldn't fathom the answer to this question. The only reason he knew about his ‘magic’ was because of that old freak who had apparently been watching Call the entire time. Neither his magic nor the old freak could be brought up to Aaron, so what could he tell him? Call inhaled deeply, ready to sigh, until a cough escaped his throat. He really was feeling cold.

“You ok?” Aaron asked, plopping beside him. Their shoulders knocked together familiarly and Call almost felt as if they were close friends sitting for a friendly chat. It was definitely one of his dumber thoughts. 

Call grunted his response, still shivering. In spite of Havoc’s warm body pressed against him, and the warm crackling of the newly-made fire, he still felt cold. It was like his skin was thawing, but his heart remained frozen. Call was about to sink into the endless abyss of his negative thoughts; however, in the corner of his eye he caught Aaron’s gaze lingering on him. Maybe Aaron was sensitive too, maybe he could feel Call’s anxiety and decided not to ask. 

“So...You ready to talk about it?”

Or maybe not, maybe Aaron was just another idiot. 

“So basically, after you stabbed Rahab with his own spike, I got swallowed by him and from there I landed on the bone you stuck inside his throat. And then I cut his throat all the way up and came out,” Call explained vaguely. He hoped Aaron would take it smoothly. Afterall, this was the only part he was planning to tell honestly. 

Aaron nodded his head, his brows furrowed as he began to process what Call had just said. After a moment the blonde looked ready to ask his next question, but Call wasn't anywhere near ready to answer it. He would have to carry on the conversation until he came up with a decent answer. 

“Who the heck sends a bunch of kids to Dracula’s castle to fight freaking monsters anyway?”

Aaron blinked at him, obviously caught unaware by the question. After a brief moment of silence, the blonde spoke, his expression guarded. 

“I came here to fulfill my duty… Tamara just came along to support me… We work for an organization called Ecclesia, but I’m not really sure if I’m supposed to talk about it.”

Call opened his mouth, ready to ask another question, but Aaron beat him to it. He caught on to the flow of things surprisingly fast. 

“What about you? If you met Tamara, I’m sure she took you to a resting point. Why didn't you stay there? Aren't you scared?” 

Call might have felt offended if anyone other than Aaron asked the same question, but the blonde had turned out to be surprisingly genuine. If he was the one asking this question, he couldn't have been doing it in a mocking manner, or even an invasive manner. Just simple and pure curiosity.

Ignoring the intent, it was still a surprisingly deep question, and technically a cheat of the system, considering he asked _two_ questions instead of one, but Call wasn't going to point that out, he would just have to ask two questions too.

“Well, I heard Havoc crying when I was sitting in that room and I knew I had to save him. No matter what. And anyway, after that, we went looking for,” _For my dad,_ Call finished in his thoughts. For some reason he couldn't say it, he couldn't say ‘dad’. Although saying it aloud wouldn't change anything, Call felt it would validate that his father was truly gone. “For someone,” he finished belatedly. 

His body seemed to have completely defrosted now, seeing as his palms were stinging. He would have to heal them using the Alura Une later, for now he just had to keep them out of sight. Luckily, the room they currently inhabited barely had any light, which helped cover his injuries, but the downside to that was how eerily creepy the rest of the room seemed. The campfire illuminated only the area close to them, leaving shadowy images to flicker across the stone walls. Call unconsciously scooted closer to Aaron, despite their already close proximity. If Aaron minded the motion, he didn't show it. 

The golden fire illuminated Aaron’s features nicely, casting a warm glow over his pale skin. The colour didn't suit him, Call figured someone like Aaron spent a lot of time outside, playing sports or something of the like. He must have become this way from being stuck within the cave which was called ‘Dracula’s Castle’.

“Play any sports?” Call asked, just for the heck of it. 

Aaron smiled childishly, his previous gloominess completely gone. 

“How did you know? I play football!” 

Call almost smiled at the stereotypical response. 

“What can I say? I’m a natural at this sort of thing.”

“Okay,” the mischievous glint was back in Aaron’s eyes, “What else can you tell me about myself?”

Call took one glance at Aaron’s face and chewed his lip.

“You make really good grades, everyone at school likes you, you're popular without trying and- wait a second, do you even go to school?!”

“I guess that was kind of accurate…I do go to school, Ecclesia teaches us and trains us,” Aaron explained, “But I don't think everyone likes me.”

Big surprise he was humble too. 

Call actually did laugh aloud this time. He may or may not have just quoted an anime stereotype to Aaron, but honestly who was keeping track of such things? 

“W-why are you laughing?” Aaron asked self-consciously. Although Call couldn't tell for sure, his cheeks looked a little red under the firelight. “I bet you're the type to pretend to be like a cool kid on the outside, but you're actually really nice on the inside. Am I right?”

Call’s laughing fit ended in a single cough as the accuracy of Aaron’s statement pierced straight into the depths of his soul. Call gaped at him a little, torn between being cross or shocked.

It was Call’s turn to be embarrassed, and he turned his head in the opposite direction as Aaron erupted into his own fit of laughter. 

“Yeah, yeah you weren't that accurate. I'm really not that nice, just so you know,” Call grumbled. When Aaron continued to laugh Call nudged him with his elbow, “Don't laugh too hard Aaron, I’m still sitting here you know.”

Both boys calmed a bit after laughing, and Call, with his back pressed to Aaron’s side, finally felt warmth surge through him. It was a pleasant soothing sort of feeling. It lulled him to sleep easily, sending promises of hope and friendship to linger in his dreams. And maybe, just maybe Call wasn't afraid to hope for a friend.


	16. Dracula's Heir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im not dead!! School started and hit me like a bus and I will mostly be posting on the weekends now so yea... Drew and Joseph get new personalities cause' I feel like they had potential and stuff yea... Next chapter is HUge development for Jasper but thats all Im gonna say for now :)! Please enjoy and thank you for your patience~~ Also this hasnt been edited yet so Im very sorry if your the first to read it!  
> ** I have edited it(*^_^*)

Call slept like he was a dead man. He hadn't felt super tired after chatting with Aaron or anything, but when his eyelids fell shut, they seemed pretty intent on staying that way. The pleasant state of sleep erased his worries, leaving him dreamless, but quite content. Most of the dreams he probably would have had at this point would have been nightmares. He definitely wouldn't mind forgoing those. Sometime in between the long hours, Call felt Aaron’s weight shift before his warmth fully disappeared. Instead of investigating like his barely conscious mind wanted, Call simply repositioned himself, cuddling into Havoc’s fluff. Sleep overtook his senses once again. 

When Call truly awoke, it happened in the midst of his turning. He hadn't really planned on getting up during _this_ turn, but his ears naturally picked up the sounds of hushed voices and his mind forced itself to try and understand the purposefully quieted words. He didn't really want to get up yet, but listening closely, he was able to glean out a girl’s voice and another familiar voice… His mind wasn't sharp enough to identify them yet. Rather than getting up and exposing himself, Call decided to stay down and feign sleep while actually listening to their conversation. Not only was the position more discreet, but it would also allow him to peek over Havoc’s ears at the people speaking. He already had a feeling he knew who they were, but he wouldn't waste this opportunity to get truthful unfiltered information. 

Straight ahead Aaron sat his legs criss crossed, opposite a very familiar Asian kid, and sitting diagonally from them both sat Tamara. Who, at the moment, was whispering so fiercely Call was sure she probably didn't even have a need to whisper. It pretty much destroyed the point of whispering but whatever. After his curiosity was mildly satiated, Call immediately shrunk back behind Havoc, his mind attempting- and failing- to process the onslaught of thoughts.

When did they recruit the Asian kid at the front gates?! Call vaguely remembered Tamara mentioning some Jonathan-or had it been Jalon?- well, mention some kid. Call just hadn't expected him to be the one currently sitting in their little circle. Call didn't know why he was so shocked at the obvious fact. Jonathan _was_ a part of their ‘group’, and had probably already told both Tamara and Aaron that he was a bloodthirsty vampire. Not that he was, or there was any chance of him being one, but being in Dracula’s castle had made Call self-conscious about the most menial of things.

Glancing down at his arms, Call aimed to see if the burn he received from Jonathan had healed any, but he found himself trying to suppress a violent shudder instead. Somehow, his shredded palms had completely healed overnight. The pulverised mass of flesh was fully restored, leaving naught but smooth unscarred skin. Call quelled his fear and pulled down the sleeve of his black turtleneck, only to see the flesh in the same horrid state it had been in inside the Demon Guesthouse. The burn was fresh and un-blistered, almost as if it had been inflicted less than a day ago. Yet, his palms were fully healed?! 

Nothing made sense, nothing at all.

Before Call could ruminate about his body’s freakish tendencies, a sharp whisper pierced the air.

“That is no ordinary kid sitting over there! That is a killer vampire!” Jonathan whisper-shouted. 

“If I knew all this stuff before our initial meeting, I wouldn't have been so idle during our first meeting. Defeating Rahab, keeping a warg as a pet, and running from _Vampire Killer_ , I don't think it could get any more obvious,” Tamara concluded. Call suddenly felt glad her face was hidden from him, he didn't want to imagine the expression written on it. 

“He also might have mentioned taking a bath somewhere in here... And also somehow healed me, but I’m sure not how he did it. It might have been with potions,” Aaron added. 

Call shrunk backwards. He didn't know what or how, but something about what Aaron had said made him feel small. Small and vulnerable. He hadn't expected him to say that. Call had thought maybe they had connected, maybe Aaron would have defended him. But really what had he been thinking? Aaron had just been being nice and keeping face. He was with his real friends now. In a few moments they were probably gonna wipe the floor with Call all because he was some vampire, or something. But honestly, even Call didn't know what he was, or why he was here. He only knew he could rely on his dad. Who was most certainly not dead and was only locked up somewhere in the castle like Havoc had been. 

For some reason the thought didn't do anything to dull the ache in his heart. 

Call once again listened absent-mindedly as the trio continued to converse. They seemed to have moved onto some other conversation.

“He probably ditched Tamara cause’ she wasn't a Belmont and went for the big bucks. That’s why he sneakily sidled up to you and treated you so nicely Aaron. Are you sure you're not cursed or possessed?” Jonathan asked in a rather snide manner. 

Call heard Tamara sigh tiredly.

“Jasper, could you please shut up? Aaron is not possessed, if he was we would be able to tell. As for Call, well considering how Vampire Killer burns the skin of vampires and doesn't hurt humans means we can just check his arm. For Aaron’s sake anyway, I’m already pretty convinced of what he is,” Tamara stated bluntly. 

“Thanks Tamara,” Aaron said.

Call stopped listening to their discussion and sat up abruptly. He couldn't contain it any longer. He wasn't a vampire, no matter the facts, no matter anything. He was Alistair’s son, who just happened to be a human, and nothing could change that fact. Call took in a large breath, in preparation, before turning to stand. His leg ached in protest.

“I’m not a vampire,” he declared. 

Three sets of eyes landed on him. Glancing at each pair, only made him a bit more nervous, but overall more determined to prove the genuinity of his statement. Tamara seemed a little surprised, though mostly calculating, like she dared Call to continue talking. Aaron seemed truly shocked. And Jasper(That was his name, not Jonathan, Call had been close okay?) seemed quite ready to say something offensive. In which Call promptly shut him up before he even got the chance.

“I’m not a vampire, and I can prove it.”

The silence that followed Call’s bold statement was deafening. Tension permeated the air, stiffening the already rigid atmosphere even further. Call almost found himself laughing in his own nervousness, but quickly sobered at Tamara’s statement.

“Make any sudden movements and I will not hesitate to strike.”

Call muttered a “right” underneath his breath, stealing a discreet glance at Aaron. His lips were pursed and his eyes were downcast, but he spoke no words. That was fine, Call had known since the beginning that he was fighting this battle solo; he would have it no other way. 

“You guys wanna check my arm right? And make sure they’re not burned?”

Call proceeded to fold his long sleeve down in a tantalizingly slow way, ensuring he could lengthen at least the last few seconds he had to think...After all, as soon as he finished showing off his right uninjured arm, they were sure to ask to view his left ‘very obviously injured’ arm. He was still trying to think up a way he could avoid that.

“See? Completely normal,” Call said as reassuring as he could manage at the moment. 

Call’s heart felt like it was pounding so fast that it was about to beat straight out of his chest. Maybe he could distract them with Havoc or- Jasper sauntered forward confidently grabbing a hold of Call’s left arm. The action was so unexpected, Call barely had a moment to react or even to hide his wince. Jasper was thin but he had a strong grip.

“No more time for dramatics this time, blood sucker! Let’s see the proof,” Jasper reached out his other hand, intending to pull down Call’s other sleeve and expose him to the others. Call would have none of it though. Despite the list of colourful language that ran through his mind, his rage-fueled mind pieced together a somewhat rational sentence. 

“Get your grabby-ass hands off me! If I’m gonna go down, then-” Call paused mid-sentence as he caught movement in his peripheral. It was on the wall, just the slightest flicker of a shadow. Call was instantly reminded of Havoc’s shadow before, but this time it couldn't have been his silly puppy. After all, Havoc was still sitting near his legs. Outside his thoughts, Call could hear Jasper mocking him and his unfinished sentence; however, in favour of his epiphany, he didn't argue back. There was someone-or something there. 

Tamara seemed to realize the same thing.

“Watch out!” she shouted, jumping backwards. 

At her warning, Aaron followed suit, flipping backwards with enough grace to make a professional gymnast jealous. Call was in a tougher position. Not only was he still connected to Jasper, but, in the millisecond Call had spared to look, the other boy didn't seem to have foreseen this attack at all. That meant if he didn't do something, they were both dead. 

Grabbing a hold of Jasper, Call lunged backward with as much force as his legs could muster. His bad leg burned with a fiery pain and Call had to push the stars from his vision before he could even attempt to understand what had just happened. 

As Call once again reclaimed his awareness, the first thing he noticed was the fact that Jasper’s hair was in his mouth. Gross. The Asian boy was practically draped on him like a blanket and wait- why did this situation seem so familiar?

“Hey get off me!” Call yelled, shoving Jasper. 

Jasper flinched, bringing himself to a sitting position. The two shared a brief look of distaste before Jasper relented and stood, dusting himself off. 

“Are you guys ok?!” Aaron called from the opposite side of the room. Call hadn't realized it, but a thick cloud of dust had risen. The air was so congested with debris, Call couldn't even see Aaron or Tamara. All he could see was Jasper and that was far from a pleasant view. 

“The vampire grabbed me and tried to bite me but I fought him off! Don't worry about me guys!” Jasper called back and it took the majority of Call’s willpower to not to hit him in the back of his head. 

“Like I did that! If I was gonna drink someone’s blood it sure as hell wouldn't be your blood,” Call said, his arms crossed. On second thought, that probably wasn't the smartest thing to say when you were in the middle of being accused of being a vampire, but considering how his grave was already dug, he barely had anything to lose. “Anyway what just happened?”

As Call asked his question, the dust began to clear and a high pitched cackling resonated from the room. The fifth person. Images of demon pixies and broken clown toys filled Call’s mind. What new horror had Dracula’s castle brought to them?

When the dust fully cleared Call finally caught a glance of the mysterious fifth person. It was a boy who appeared no older than any of them. He wore over-the-top Gothic clothes and sat, his legs crossed, on the most terrifying horse Call had ever seen. The beast’s skin, although coloured black, glowed flaming red, just as its eyes did. However chunks of skin and tissue were missing all over it's body, the most noticeable parts being the entirety of its face and rear. This left the monster looking like some sort of zombie-horse with pulsating red eyes of death.

“I’m guessing this guy isn't part of your girl scout group, huh?” Call blurted unintentionally. Aaron chuckled at him and Jasper muttered something smart under his breath. Call wasn't really sure how to take either of those reactions.

Tamara glowered at him.

“This is Drew Wallace, Dracula’s only heir... and our current target.”


	17. Unknown Allies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha... I am so sorry

Call stared ahead, shocked silent. This scrawny looking kid was Dracula’s heir?! He had expected a lot of things: a demon, a ghost, a burly looking guy with fangs, anything to be honest. Anything but a kid their age. 

“You guys have to kill this- this-” Call spluttered for lack of better words. He hadn't expected Tamara and Aaron’s man hunt to turn out to be more of a ‘kid’ hunt. 

“This _kid_? Yeah, we do,” Aaron replied, his face ashen. He looked older, his voice was stern; he seemed to be completely different from the boy that had so lovingly patted Havoc’s head. Call barely recognized him. 

“We’re just following our duty, and doing our part in saving the world,” Tamara added a second later. Call might have believed her ironclad resolve in the matter if she hadn't turned her face from him. In the short time he had spent with her, he could tell she was a very prideful person. She never hesitated and never hid, facing each thing head-on. But here Tamara was, turning her face in guilt. The sight seemed wrong. 

If the quick math in Call’s head was right though, they should be going after Ecclesia instead of Drew. Why not turn against the people that forced them into doing horrible things? They were the ones forcing them to do all of this, weren't they?

“Why don't you guys just quit? Why do you have to listen to Ecclesia all the time?” Call asked, frustrated. He knew the answer wasn't anywhere near as simple as just quitting, but he couldn't fathom what compelled them to work for such an organization. Every time it was brought up, Aaron got sad or distant. Obviously there was some disconnect somewhere!

It was Jasper’s turn to speak. He grabbed the front of Call’s shirt aggressively, pulling him to his height, “You think it's that easy bloodsucker?!” he asked, voicing Call’s thoughts. “You don't understand anything.”

Call jerked away roughly, the weight of his words falling heavily on his shoulders. Usually he would have felt angry, maybe even indignant, but Jasper was right. He was so right it felt like a punch to the gut. Hadn't Call just recently reiterated his pledge of being solo? Why was he interfering anyway? It wasn't like this was any of his business. Now he had gone and embarrassed himself. After all, it wasn't like there was much he could do to alleviate the problem. He was just a single person. He himself was just another kid. 

“I don't need your pity!” an unknown voice called out. And it took Call a second to realize it was Drew who had spoken. His voice was still high, as if his vocal chords hadn't yet matured and Call decided it was better that he wasn't a demonic pixie. With all that was occurring, he might not have been able to wrap his head around it if that had been the case. “I’ll beat all of you easily, and then you’ll all be begging for MY pity!”

Call tried (with difficulty) to keep his face completely straight. Drew even talked like a dumb kid. Not to say that Call spoke any more eloquently, but that was besides the point. This kid sure had a lot of guts threatening Aaron and Tamara. 

“Why don’t _you_ just give up?” Call asked, turning to Drew. Even after making a firm decision in his head, his mouth always got the better of him. “You’re obviously outnumbered, and that's not even counting Jasper since I don't know if he's capable of doing anything. He looks about as useless as they come. Anyway, you could save a lot of trouble and-”

Tamara, who had apparently crossed the distance while Call had been busy arguing with everyone, grabbed his shoulder, efficiently spinning him around. All the while, Drew actually seemed to be contemplating the other’s ideas. Jasper didn't get a word in edgewise, and Call was certainly not complaining about such an outcome.

“It’s way too late for that Call,” she whispered harshly. Her hand gripped his shoulder almost painfully, and it didn't take much concentration to work out why. Tamara was just as torn as Aaron was, she just pretended better. “Drew has already absorbed some dark magic. Why else do you think he is able to control that Night Mare? If we let him live, he’ll gain control of everything within the castle and bring darkness upon humanity! Our only option is to… is to kill him.”

Call stared at her wide-eyed, he hadn't expected her to say that so bluntly. 

With the casual- albeit painful- way Tamara had grabbed his shoulder, Call also couldn't help but think she had completely forgotten about the earlier accusations of him being a vampire. Either that or, Drew was a big enough threat that even someone calm and calculated like herself, was willing to rely on a wildcard like Call. The first option definitely seemed to be leaning more in his favour.

As if Call's very thoughts summoned him to action, Drew released a low growl in the back of his throat. His large blue eyes were now squinted into slivers of pure animosity, and the anger formed creases on his brow. His entire expression clashed jarringly with the childish soft features of his face. Call almost thought he looked comically angry. 

"You-you all are so gonna regret everything that you’ve said! I’m never gonna stop! And soon enough, after I’m Dracula, you guys will be bowing before me too! You’ll wish you listened to my dad when he first tried to recruit you!” Drew shouted. While his eyebrows were still furrowed, the grimace had slipped off his face, leaving nothing more than a pout. He resembled a child throwing a tantrum over a broken toy. “You all better be ready!!!”

After his bold declaration, the room was once again claimed by silence and Call couldn't tell if Drew was finished talking or not. It remained for a moment, until Havoc found something interesting to sniff at on the sole of Call’s sneakers. The wolf’s intent sniffing echoed in the stone room, causing the attention to fall on Call once again; he pretended not to notice. 

_Really Havoc now of all times?!_ Call exclaimed in his thoughts. The pup let out a low whine and began to pull on the leg of Call’s jeans. Call stiffly tried to ignore him. 

“Did you come all the way over here, just to tell us _that_?” Jasper asked incredulously. Having finally broken the awkward silence that had claimed them, the four returned their focus to Drew, who now seemed to be nervously contemplating his options. 

“No… Of course not- I-I also brought a gift,” Drew’s face twisted into a smirk as he spoke, and he raised his hand dramatically, snapping his fingers. After nothing happened for a second Call thought for a moment that Drew had simply snapped for dramatic effect, or maybe to show off his overly-frilly Gothic sleeves; however, realization quickly dawned on him as a thick fog began filling the room. 

“Crap! Guys turn back and run!! Run!!!” Tamara cried out, turning tail within a second's notice. 

Havoc was now pulling on Call’s jeans hard enough for the boy to be forcefully pulled forward. It wasn't the dog’s best idea though, and Call quickly found he was tripping over himself in an effort to go forward. Was it the gas that Tamara was worried about? There was always the possibility that it could be poisoned like the Alura Une’s pollen. 

Call quickly covered his mouth and nose with his hand in a makeshift way to filter through the supposedly poisoned gas, and then he heard it. Or maybe he felt it, but the room seemed to begin to shake. The thundering sound only grew closer, and Call felt a pang of fear shoot through his mind. The gas was definitely the least of his problems right now. Havoc whimpered again. 

“Go boy, find Aaron and stay with him, okay?” Call told the wolf. Havoc let out a forlorn howl and paced around Call agitatedly. “I said GO!” Call shouted. The dog whimpered one last time, and dashed into the fog. 

Call righted himself as quickly as he could. Although it wasn't the quickest process, he was on his feet in due time, and while the rumbling sounded much closer, nothing had actually shown up yet. The odds seemed to be in his favour. Call began to limp forward, checking behind his back occasionally to see if anything appeared. After only a few steps forward, Call whipped his head forward after another tentative check of his rear, and slammed his nose into something standing before him. It was too soft to be the wall, but too hard to not have bruised his nose. Had the enemy circled ahead?

“OW! What the hell!?”

Nope never mind it was just Jasper. 

“What’re you doing just standing there?!?” Call cried. “Why aren't you running?!”

Jasper seemed paler in an unhealthy sort of way. The blood seemed to have drained from his face… Almost as if he was nervous or guilty about something. Call narrowed his eyes.

“I…”

Jasper's eyes flicked from Call’s face, to some area behind him and Call felt an unholy breath on his neck. It was perhaps the worst horror-movie stereotype that could come to mind, but in experiencing it firsthand in reality, he couldn't help but feel sheer dread consume him.

“Jasper-” Call said, speaking frantically. His voice was uneven, but he spit the words as quickly as he could so he could get his point across with the utmost haste, “I know you don't like me but, there seems to be a lot of whatever is behind me, and if we work together-”

“Oh, Jasper? You’re still here? Well good then, lets talk. I have some good news.”

Call felt his entire body shiver. It was Drew who had just spoken. There was no mistake about it. Drew had called out to Jasper. 

“Jasper?--”

The Asian boy stared at Call wide-eyed, his lips trembled. 

“Burn in Hell vampire…” he whispered. 

Jasper shoved Call backwards.


	18. Betrayal between Friends, Hope between Enemies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaron and Tamara will show up next chapter :D I was excited writing this chapter so super early update I am only 98% dead. Hope you enjoy~~ Tell me what you think in the comments I love reading them

Call fell backwards with a gasp. He had meant to pull Jasper’s shirt and take him down as well, but his fingers fell just short of the other boy’s lapel. He fell unceremoniously, his limbs sprawled messily and his gaze directed upward. He had also intended to fix Jasper with the nastiest gaze he could muster because he was definitely not going to burn in hell, in fact the only person on their way to hell was Jasper because Call was going to make his life a living hell. But, being surrounded by monsters on all sides really helped sober him.

An entire herd of Drew”s demonic horses surrounded Call, which explained the previous rumbling, but offered no explanation on how Call was actually supposed to get out of the situation. He was completely encircled by the beasts other than the opening where Jasper stood, and Call had just learned, quite ruthlessly really, how safe _that_ route was. He would have to try his luck with the monsters. 

The Night Mares, as Tamara had called them, were only getting closer, giving Call an unnecessarily close look at their hideous physique. Each horse was missing different parts of its face and were slowly getting closer and closer. They were so close Call was able to see their blunt human-like teeth dripping with red-tinted saliva. It was both disgusting and horrifying. He slightly felt like retching. Pulling his gun from his pants, Call was ready to point it straight towards the bastard that had gotten him in this awful situation in the first place. 

“Drew, if you don’t make these monsters back away, I swear I’ll shoot Jasper in the fuc-” Call stopped mid-sentence as a hoof kicked him on the back. He didn't put up too much resistance and fell flat onto his face. 

Call winced as his nose throbbed painfully afterwards and quickly tried to recover, yet the Night Mare didn't relent and quickly took its place standing on his back. Call felt as if the burden of ten worlds was on his back, and this was only the monster’s front two legs. Unconsciously, he found himself spitting blood. 

“These guys aren’t monsters, they’re my precious ponies,” Drew corrected, jumping off the back of the Night Mare and straight onto Call’s outstretched arm. A sickening snap resounded through the room as Drew grinded his heeled boots into Call’s wrist; it made his hand curl upward in an odd direction and he couldn't help but release his gun. “Not making so many comments now huh? Who even are you anyway?” Drew asked hopping off his arm innocently and kicking away the discarded firearm. 

The only thing in Call’s vision was white. He had never broken his wrist before, -much less getting his bone freaking crushed to pieces by some gothic diva wannabe- but that was probably the least concerning thing that happened in the past five minutes. He needed to get up. Jasper was a traitor and… and… Call’s mind felt sluggish. He couldn't think clearly or even focus on Drew’s wavering figure up ahead. It was like he was drugged, except it was the pain that numbed his mind and senses. It was a deep sort of ache that pulsed at his wrist...almost like... Call’s mind grasped for the words but he couldn't reach them. His mind was like a flickering bulb that tried desperately to stay alight, but alas with his fleeting thoughts so did his mind flicker off. Call’s eyes fell shut. 

******

When Call opened his eyes again, he felt an immense relief wash over him, but it was quickly replaced by a deep sense of foreboding. The Night Mare’s that had once surrounded him, including the one that had stood atop his back, were all gone now. They had seemingly moved ahead to surround some other unfortunate person. Call knew better than that, obviously they were surrounding Jasper and Drew. Which also meant that Call hadn't lost consciousness for overly long; he must have passed out for a second due to momentary shock or something. This also meant a treasure trove of information waited for him just a few steps ahead. And that fool Drew had left his gun just sitting a ways away. The idea didn't make his wrist feel any better, but getting back at Jasper sounded pretty satisfying. After reclaiming his gun, Call army crawled forward, careful not to get noticed by the Night Mares. It wasn't the most difficult thing he had done, and soon enough he was within earshot of the two other boys. 

“- Anyway, like I was saying your dad is still alive for now, but you still haven't poisoned Tamara yet,” Drew said simply. Call wondered if the brat had ever even had any friends before. The thought carried more empathy than Call intended. “I’ll give you one more day, but that's it. Or else your dad will be fed to my ponies. Hehe, he's such a freaking sissy anyway. I bet he would willingly walk to his death if it meant getting away from you and your mom.”

“Shut the hell up Drew!” Jasper seethed. Call wasn't able to see either of their faces but he could imagine Jasper’s was black with anger. Everything made sense now though, Call wasn't sure if he was better off understanding. 

Jasper was being blackmailed by Drew because apparently Drew somehow knew Jasper’s dad and was in a position to kill him. Call wasn't very sure about the details, but he knew that the previous empathy he had felt for Drew had evaporated completely. He definitely didn't like Jasper even a little bit, because, well the guy had literally pushed him to his death. But god did this brat need a solid punch in his tiny little face. 

“Hey arseholes I’m still here,” Call announced haughtily, rising to his feet. 

Without a second thought, he began firing his gun randomly into the mass of Night Mares that stood in front of him, in a seemingly uncaring way. As if he had forgotten the fact that Jasper and Drew could easily be shot. Call heard a few shouts, the pang of some metal, and the thud of corpses as some of the ‘ponies’ fell. They were terrifying but evidently not too hard to kill. 

And this time he saw it: the glittering swirl of red as a new soul was bestowed upon him. 

Call was cheeky enough to smirk as he walked down the aisle of corpses he had just created. He headed straight towards the centre where both boys waited. 

“Didn't learn your lesson the first time huh-” Drew started, but Call didn't waste a second swinging his fist straight into the younger boy’s jaw. It was Drew’s turn to spit blood. Neither Jasper nor the Night Mares made any movement. “H-How dare you- you nobody! I _will_ kill Jasper’s dad now, I swear-”

Call sat down on top on the fallen boy’s waist and pulled him upwards so he couldn't escape his piercing silver gaze. 

“You douche! You really think anyone believes you anymore?! You just get a little taste of authority and look how you're dragging Jasper around?! I bet you don't even have the means or guts to kill his dad. You're stuck in here just like us with no access to the outside world. You really are just a freaking brat, to think I even felt bad for you!” 

Drew’s bottom lip quivered as Call stared down on him intensely. “I- you guys are the stupid ones! Have you forgotten you're surrounded by _my_ ponies?! Even if I can’t kill your stupid dad, I can kill you two!” 

Call very seriously threw his head back and cackled. Maybe he was being a little overly dramatic, but he had been waiting for Drew to say this line the entire time. Call raised his brow arrogantly, his eyes flashing red. Only Drew saw them. 

In the background, Call was vaguely able to hear Jasper readying his weapon in preparation, but nothing happened. The remaining Night Mares all continued idling by. 

“Wha-what did you do to them?” Drew asked at a complete loss.

“Nothing,” Call said, getting up and walking a small distance away.

 _Attack him_ , Call thought a second later.

It only took a millisecond for the beasts to charge over, their hooves beating with the sound of Call’s own heart. What was he doing? 

Before Call could pursue the thoughts any further, Drew let out an ear-curdling wail. Jasper, who had efficiently moved out of the path of the Night Mares, winced at the sound, looking paler than ever. “WHAT have you done to them?! What have you done to my ponies?!?!” Drew’s eyes leaked tears. “YOU WILL PAY! You will pay you stupid rogue vampire!” 

Within a blast of smoke and shadow, Drew disappeared, just seconds away from being plundered by the massive onslaught of monsters. Call would be lying if he didn't say he felt relieved to see the young boy escape; it hadn't been his intention to actually hurt the other. 

Call sighed and finally allowed his shoulders to sag, his silver eyes flashing crimson one last time. The group of Night Mares immediately dispersed into dust. They resembled ashes blowing on an unseen wind...Call briefly wondered what they had meant to Drew, but he forced his mind to focus. There was one last loose end he needed to tie. 

Call spun on his heel, looking about for Jasper. The Asian boy stood but a few feet away from him, his arm fully outstretched; he was gripping a very extravagant looking spear and pointing it straight towards Call’s throat. 

“If you say a word to Aaron or Tamara I swear I won’t hesitate to kill you vampire.”

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice, but I’ll agree to the same terms on the topic of my vampirism… I swear I won’t say anything if you won’t say anything about my ‘condition’,” Call said. That's right, Call had decided to agree with the possibility of himself being a vampire, since everyone seemed so sure of it. But he was still definitely a human...Most likely.

Jasper eyed him warily for a moment, but his uptight posture and mannerisms deflated rather quickly. He seemed tired. 

“Deal bloodsucker, but even after all this Tamara will try to check your arm. Your secret will be out even if I don't say anything.”

Call scowled deeply. “Then help me protect it, and I’ll help protect yours too.”

The fact that Call had to depend on someone else was already a headache. But the fact that he had to depend on Jasper the Jerk was a whole ‘nother level of horrible. Had Dracula- or no that old creep- personally had it out for the Hunt family from the start? Was this all some horrible plot? Call sighed heavily, there wasn't much use in thinking about it now.

“Well genius, what should I do to cover up my arm?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you ever wondered what Drew's boots looked like this is what I imagine hahah ... https://www.tribugotica.com/en/shoes-and-boots-online/275-black-demonia-womens-gothic-boots.html I also am vague on the outfit descriptions purposefully but if you guys want more on that in the story and outside Ill link you guys what I imagine hehe ^^;;


	19. Vampire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was really awkward and hard to write. I am sorry it took so long. Call finally understands one thing and Jasper is... Well haha anyway enjoy~ oh yeah, for the later half of the chapter formatting is super messed because I am posting this on my phone so apologies ahead of time!!

Jasper had looked sickly and pale before, but when Call had mentioned the word “genius”, his whole face seemed to light up. 

“So you finally realized it vampire?” the Asian boy said, leering. 

Call stood quietly for a moment, the other boy’s words completely lost on him. What exactly had been realized? Call was ready to ask, but Jasper seemed overly excited to explain it himself. 

“I mean, I know I’m amazing, and it was just a matter of time before you actually said it out loud, but what am I saying? Of course I’ll offer some of my godly advice… Since you obviously need it so badly,” Jasper had now crossed his arms smugly against his chest. Almost like he was waiting for Call to fall on his knees and began worshipping him. The idea in itself, was actually so ludicrous it almost made Call laugh. Almost.

“Are you not in the least bit worried that I might kill you? Or that Drew might come back? Or that maybe, we might not be able to find Tamara and Aaron again? Or the fact that you could be hiding a potentially dangerous secret from your own ‘friends’?” Call released a long-suffering sigh, “Are you not shocked about anything that just happened?”

Jasper’s grin only widened as Call listed off his questions. It was like the jerk had been waiting for him to ask them. And that wasn't the only thing that didn't sit well with Call. By asking those very questions to the other boy, he had basically exposed his own wavering feelings to Jasper of all people. How embarrassing!

“Obviously, Ecclesia taught me how to deal with Drew and his… ideas. Before you came everything was under control, and now that he's gone, everything is still under control. I even know how to deal with your random appearance bloodsucker,” Jasper said confidently. He even had begun to dust the invisible dust off his own flamboyant victorian outfit, and walk forward. Call followed behind him numbly. 

“You did not have everything under control! You looked so scared!” 

“I looked like that to convince Drew that I was scared and that he was in control. And if it convinced you, I’m pretty sure it tricked him too.” 

“But what about when you threatened me not to tell Tamara and Aaron? What was that about then?!” Call argued.

Jasper stopped walking after this question. He eyed Call out of the corner of his eye, a thoughtful expression painted on his face. It didn't last long enough for Call to understand the meaning behind it and he quickly spoke up afterwards.

“It was obviously to keep Drew off the scent. Just because he makes a big dramatic exit doesn't mean he has really stopped listening,” Jasper said exasperatedly, “And now that I have to explain all of my complex and well-thought out plans to you, it's completely destroying my efforts to trick Drew in the first place. So unless you want me to ask you a million questions about you and your vampirism, I would shut up.”

Call snapped his mouth shut, killing the retort on the tip of his tongue. Jasper was rude. He was rude and snarky and everything that Call didn't like. He was right too, and Call didn't like that factor any more than the rest. 

The two boys walked in silence for a while. Jasper had long legs and took his steps with long strides, leaving Call behind in the dust. Not only was he shorter than Jasper, but he felt ten times as exhausted considering his display of power back with Drew that and his numerous injuries plus his throbbing leg. Call really wanted nothing more than to collapse on a rock somewhere and just sleep, but he wasn't about to tell all of that to Jasper. He could outdo him in any field. 

Over a particularly broken piece of stairway, Call found himself struggling immensely. Placing his good leg on the stone far below him left his bad leg to support the other half of his weight on the upper step, which wasn't currently possible. Sitting down allowed him to place both legs below him, but the stone underneath his bottom crumbled into dust.

Of course the stupid stair decided to break when I sit on it, Call thought dryly. It had held his weight perfectly fine before! It had even held Jasper's weight, and he had to weigh ten times Call's weight.

Call tumbled just as easily as the stone did, and luckily for him, the fall wasn't far. During his descent, he reached out his arms to break his fall, forgetting about his broken wrist. Call watched in horror as his wrist twisted yet another direction as it failed to support the weight being thrusted upon it; the stinging sensation rippling up his arm, causing him to wince painfully.

Call pushed himself up with his uninjured hand, blinking away the tears that had come unbridled to his eyes. He breathed heavily as he attempted to regain his bearings. The pain he had felt was excruciating, and his wrist was beginning to look more and more like a swollen plum. Call wondered if his broken wrist had been a part of Jasper’s ‘plan’ too.

“God, why are you panting like a dog? We haven't even walked that far yet,” Jasper said cockily. Apparently he had walked up to watch Call’s pathetic display.

It made his blood boil.

“Why the heck were you running like a freaking cheetah? Do we really need to walk that fast to reach wherever the hell we are going?!” Call asked, his voice trembling.

“Well you were the one making googly eyes at Aaron and Tamara when you said you weren't a vampire. I just thought you wanted to be with them as soon as possible, so I was just being nice and escorting you there!”

“What do you even know about being nice?! You like to act like you know everything, but you couldn't even tell me whatever ‘godly’ advice you had earlier, ” Call quipped back. He had managed to stand on both feet now and boy was he ready to pick a fight. “I bet it's because you just made it up like the rest of that ‘under control’ crap you spewed earlier!” 

Jasper’s face scrunched up in anger as Call easily dismissed his ‘genius’. It might have been satisfying to watch if Call himself wasn't already so indignant. The Asian boy quickly crossed the distance between them, and looked down on the shorter boy in a very intense manner.

“I do too have a solution for your idiot problem! You're just so annoying I couldn't get it out in time.” Jasper paused for a bit, for what Call assumed to be dramatic effect, but a very mean glare got him talking again quickly, “The solution is obviously to drink some blood. Human blood is the only way a vampire can heal from a wound inflicted by Vampire Killer… That's the whip by the way,” Jasper informed dryly. Once he finished, he looked at Call expectantly.

Whatever Jasper had wanted, Call was not currently in the mindframe to give. Instead, he very audibly gagged, “You want me to drink your blood? That was your amazing solution?!” When Jasper said nothing, Call realized he had been wholly serious about the idea. “You could have blood diseases,” Call muttered more to himself than the other. 

“Don't you know this much bloodsucker? You’ve got to have least drank blood before… You are a vampire.” Jasper said with certainty. When Call glanced around nervously, it didn't take Jasper very long to understand the meaning behind his silence. “You’ve never drank blood before?”

Call backed away from the other boy, trying to get his stomach under control. The idea of drinking blood was revolting. The fact it would have to be Jasper’s blood didn't really help the situation either. Not to even mention the implications that came with actually drinking blood. He would be confirming the fact that he was a vampire. Him, Alistair’s son, Callum Hunt, he was a vampire. How did that even make any sense? Call felt his arm pulse in trepidation. There had to be some other way. Another way to get the burn to go away. Call surely didn't have any clue for any alternate solutions, but the same couldn't be said of Jasper. 

"There's got to be another way!" Call practically pleaded. 

Jasper eyed Call oddly. "How have you never drank human blood before? How can you even call yourself a vampire?"

"I'm not a vampire! I'm just- I- I only became like this when I first entered this stupid castle!" 

"But that still doesn't make any sense, the castle couldn't just turn you into a vampire, unless there was a vampire you met before entering the castle. Then he could have turned you. "

Call paled. There had been one person he and his father had encountered before entering the castle. It had been that old freaky guy with a silver mask, who Call later had figured out to be a really creepy old dude. But at the time of his first arrival, Call had passed out. He didn't know what happened to his dad or himself. For all he knew, his dad could have been changed into a vampire too. The idea was strangely comforting. 

"Uh, I don't know what just happened, but we are on a tight schedule. You can either take my solution or drop it, but Aaron and Tamara are gonna be here any minute and I'm gonna agree with whatever she says no matter what," Jasper said. Call didn't fail to notice the dagger already clasped in his hands. He really was planning to help him. 

In a brief moment of clarity, Call looked up towards the other boy, "If all of that stuff you said is true, then that means you have no reason to protect me. You have no reason to waste your blood on me." 

Jasper offered a rueful grin as he sliced his wrist. "You keep your mouth shut bloodsucker, and I'll keep mine shut too."

Call didn't really understand the other's words, but apparently they were doing this. A single drop of blood dripped to the floor wastefully, before Call placed his lips on Jasper's wrist and lapped at the oncoming flow of blood. It was probably the most embarrassing and awkward situation he had ever been in, yet Call could not deny the addictive warmth that pooled at the bottom of his stomach. He had expected the taste to be bitter, but instead it was warm… Warm and sweet.

Jasper pulled his arm back a few seconds later, his ears burning red. Call didn't see them. 

"God, you didn't have to make that face," Jasper murmured. 

"Wha...t?" Call asked, though he didn't really comprehend the question being asked. His mind, which had felt so foggy with so much exhaustion and pain, seemed to be clear as daylight. Strength seemed to have seeped into his very bones, he felt as if he could take on a million Rahabs. 

Call easily jumped from the pile of rubble to the solid stone floor, and grinned boyishly when nothing happened. No throbbing from his bad leg at all. Not to mention from any of the other injuries he had. His brutally broken wrist seemed to have righted itself, and most importantly of all the burn from Vampire Killer was completely gone. All that remained was smooth unblemished skin.

"Holy crap, I'm invincible," Call muttered to himself. 

"No you're not," Jasper said rather quickly. His bleeding wrist had already been bandaged and he was now standing beside the other boy, his face forward.

Call glanced at the figure beside him, the effects of his euphoria fading. What had he just done? And why did it feel like he had just sold his soul to the devil? 


	20. Regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry for the shorter chapter... The main party will be back in the spotlight very soon... :D Please enjoy~~

Alistair’s body sagged against the damp stone that caved in around him. Despite its rigid edges and uneven surface, it was the only reprieve he could afford at the moment. He had barely escaped the iron prison Joseph had forced him into and what had come next seemed no better. He had escaped into the caves that spread out beneath the castle, but instead of the freedom he had so desperately hoped for, he had trapped himself in another prison… Only this one was a stone labyrinth. 

He hadn't been any more lucky either when he ran into a foul she-beast that went by the name Scylla. The monster seemed to be absolutely livid when she first saw him, and in her anger she thrashed about sending stalactites falling like arrows from the sky. Alistair wasn’t even given a chance to catch his breath. From the waist up the Scylla was a beautiful naiad with locks the colour of gold, in contrast, however, her lower body housed two savage beasts: Wolf heads with razor sharp teeth and eels for legs. At first glance she seemed to be a true monstrosity, but the tale of how she came to be was truly pitiable. Alistair knew of it, but didn't care for her origins. He only cared for one thing. The one thing he had left in this world… his son. He could still see his grey eyes brimming with tears, his voice so weak. How many days had it been since he had last seen him? The concept of time as a whole seemed to be lost on him, but it couldn’t have been that long. 

Alistair scoured his own mind in search of memories of his last encounter with his son. Call had called out to him and then it had happened. Dark magic had encompassed the boy’s small frame pouring into the familiar soul it had sought after for all of those years. Alistair didn't know how or what unholy source the magic had been kept in the entire time, but the years he had protected and kept Call, the years he had spent isolated from the Order of Ecclesia, all of the time he spent as a coward in the shadows… All of that had ended up for naught. 

The Order had marked him a traitor after that. In order to preserve their “pristine” reputation, they had meant to erase both Call and Alistair from their list of blunders. But he had pushed through the adversity, living under aliases and fake I.D.s. Sarah had wanted him to kill their son too, she made it clear from the bloody message she had left written on the base of the statue and through the dagger she had plunged into the baby’s leg. The dagger she had used, Semiramis, had been her most prized possession yet she had used it to destroy Alistair’s most prized possession; she had used it to try and kill their son. Alistair had kept him, swearing to himself and her he would protect their son from the fate that awaited him at the Order. Even so, in the same way he had failed to protect Sarah, he had failed to protect Call. 

Alistair shuddered, age-old regret sinking deeper in his bones. He hadn't meant for any of it to happen and yet...Alistair ran a hand through his overgrown hair and when he brought it back blood stained his fingers. The sight immediately brought him back to reality. He didn't have time to relive his old regrets; he had to keep going. He had only defeated the Scylla due to luck and having sacrificed most of his body for the execution of a risky countermeasure. He needed to get a weapon and he also needed to find out about Joseph’s numerous plots. But most importantly he needed to find his son. 

Pushing himself off the wall, Alistair once again studied the rock that surrounded him. It glowed in the same soft phosphorescent light that it had years ago, lighting the area in what might have been called a familiar glow if Alistair didn't truly know what exactly was glowing. The light that the stones emitted was actually not the stone at all, the glow came from thousands of tiny worms that had burrowed in the hard stone. Even these supposedly harmless creatures feasted on human-flesh, and could actually grow up to be man sized and rather poisonous. The man-sized ones were much harder to find, however, as they only grew to that size after years and years of gorging themselves. 

Alistair thought back to the time when he had first found the larger breed. He had been in the caves at that time too, but at that time he hadn't been injured or weaponless. Nevertheless, if he could find one of the larger worms it would at least signify he was close to the exit to the caves. 

Because Dracula’s castle was an evil and unholy thing, over the years it had grown to develop its own will. The rooms and hallways shifted at any given moment, and the entirety of the castle could move to any location it willed; with Dracula being the only one to control it. That was of course before it had been sealed away into the solar eclipse, now only the rooms could move. That wasn't to say the monsters that lived inside changed. Because the bigger worms were so large, they could no longer feed on the scattered bits of flesh they found littered about within the caves. Instead, the larger worms sought out the upper areas of the castle to search for their meals. Meaning, if Alistair could find one of the worms it would assure him he was going in the right direction. Climbing upwards was probably a good direction to start in.

Alistair sighed, he hadn't been adventuring in Dracula’s castle for years, much less even working out in his normal day to day life. He had worked on antiques for the majority of his time anyway, what need was there for physical training? Alistair felt the left side of his mouth twitch. If Rufus had seen what had become of one of his top students he would have been extremely disappointed. Alistair hoped he could thwart Joseph, find Call, and escape the castle all within a relatively short period of time. He really wasn't too keen on having a reunion with any of the people from his past.


	21. Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> super long chapter thank you for waiting~~~ Writing 4 people at once is hard sorry for any mistakes please enjoy!!!

Call and Jasper only stood silently for a moment before both Tamara and Aaron came rushing through the adjacent corridor. When Jasper had mentioned them coming, Call really hadn’t expected them to arrive at that very moment, and felt his jaw drop. If they had come even a second earlier, they might have seen the most regrettable action that had ever happened in his mostly pathetic life.

“How did you find us so fast??” Call blurted dumbly. Despite the suspicions that naturally came along with such a question, Call genuinely wanted to know how. Tamara saw none of his genuinity, however, and within seconds her fingers were crackling with untamed flame. Call gulped audibly.

“Did you not want to be found?” she asked. 

Aaron easily stepped in front of her aim, placing his arms outward in an attempt to cover her line of vision completely. 

“Tamara you can’t just-!” Aaron started, but Jasper quickly cut him off.

“Hold your horses Tammy, before you accidentally kill a regular human. Call here is nothing but an average kid, I guarantee it.” 

After being blocked by both of them Tamara really did lower her hands, glancing at Jasper with a mixed expression on her face. It seemed to be a mixture of both relief and annoyance; it seemed like Tamara cared more about Jasper than she let on. 

“While I am glad to see you’re okay, make sure to never call me that again,” she said. Her voice had been iron but her eyes had been soft. “As for you, Call, I do apologize for the misunderstanding, but I just can’t seem to wrap my head around anything about you at all.”

Call shrugged as she examined his uninjured arms. Jasper’s words alone seemed to have quelled the majority of her suspicions as her movements were brisk. Jasper really had a bigger impact on Tamara than Call had originally thought. “Yeah, I don’t really get anything either.”

Tamara barely smiled as she sat down, a journal and pen in her hands, “ I guess we’ll figure out together then.” 

Call had absolutely no idea where she had gotten the journal or the pen, but apparently she was completely ready to document his entire life story or something. The pen was definitely better than the fire. Though the idea all in itself was more than a little intimidating. It was an intimidating subject to write about without his life partner at least.

“Hey wait, where is my dog? Where is Havoc?” Call asked nervously. 

Aaron let out a long whistle before plopping down in between Tamara and Call. Call did not notice the way their knees knocked together familiarly. 

“I never doubted you for a second,” Aaron said, his one-hundred-kilowatt smile back in full force. He hadn't even checked to look at his arms! Call thought for a moment about denying the other boy’s words, but guilt choked him silent. He couldn't form a single response to Aaron. Jasper’s gaze weighed heavily on Call’s back, but still no words came through. Call had no idea how Jasper could lie to his friends so smoothly. 

Maybe it was because he had been lying for so long… An image of Drew flashed through Call’s mind. Yet another reason to question Jasper, but in the least the other boy had been upholding his end of the promise. Now both Aaron and Tamara believed that he was a regular human and that had been his first goal all along hadn't it? For some reason his success didn’t feel as good as he had hoped. 

Call opened his mouth ready to spit something out, but luckily Havoc dashed through the corridor in that instant. How many times had his precious puppy saved him? Call couldn't count the number of times, nor did he really need to. He simply opened his arms wide, ready to embrace the oncoming wolf. Havoc readily jumped into Call’s waiting arms, sending him crashing to the floor all whilst covering his face in numerous kisses. Call laughed softly into Havoc’s fluff, all of his worries washed away. Somehow, no matter what was going on, Havoc always seemed to have that effect on Call. That feeling that everything was going to be okay even when realistically, it probably wasn't. 

“Okay, are you seriously letting your dog lick all over your face? No wonder your hair always looks like that,” Jasper commented rather rudely. 

Call peeked around Havoc to give the Asian boy the most dry look he could muster. Leave it to Jasper to destroy his blissful reunion. Not to mention the fact that Call was more than ready to comment about how Jasper’s hair usually took on some horrible replication of Goku or some weird wanna-be kpop bowl-cut look, but Tamara surprisingly beat Call to the quip.

“Oh come on Jasper, admit it, that reunion was very cute,” she stated, closing her eyes in some sort of motion of finality. 

Call had not expected her to say that at all.

“Wha…t??” both Jasper and Call uttered in unison. After hearing the other, they both turned their heads to fiercely glare at each other. 

“Am I right Aaron?” Tamara asked, her eyes still closed. Apparently their adverse reactions did nothing to deter her in any way. 

“Oh- uh, uhm Y-yeah. Definitely,” Aaron stuttered, his cheeks tinged pink. 

“Oh my god,” Jasper muttered exhaustedly. Call didn't even know why Jasper was making a comment. The one who had been embarrassed was him. 

Call lowered his own burning face into Havoc’s fluff to hide his embarrassment. What was Tamara even getting at? What was wrong with all of these people? He thought Dracula’s castle had been getting to him, but it was obviously messing with their heads more than his. 

“Wasn't there something important you needed to ask me about?” Call muttered, his voice still muffled by Havoc’s fur. Despite his foolish bravery at random given moments, Call actually wasn’t all that comfortable with having so much attention on him. Much less positive attention, which was something he hadn't gotten from anyone but Alistair- and even then it was rare. 

Tamara’s dark eyes popped open quite quickly at the mention of importance. 

“Yes there are. And Aaron and Jasper are the biggest distractions ever. Both of you go sit somewhere else so I can focus on Call,” Tamara ordered rather sternly. Call had been especially nervous about being alone with Tamara, considering her prideful and rather intense nature, but after Jasper vouched for him she seemed to be a lot more relaxed. Relaxed and kind, maybe she only acted that intense to protect her friends. 

Both Aaron and Jasper glanced at each other before getting up and moving away from the small area they had settled in. Apparently neither of them really had the guts to refute Tamara’s words. Call didn't blame either of them, as far as he knew, she could probably, very literally, turn him into toast. 

After Aaron rose and left, Havoc also stood up in an attempt to chase after his trailing tail coat. Aaron spun on his heel swiftly, thwarting the wolf’s oncoming attack easily. When the two continued to play around with each other, Call naturally felt his attention drawn towards the movement. Havoc seemed to be so happy and Aaron well he was the one who had brought that emotion to the puppy. Call had to make sure to thank him for that. 

Without a thought, a question easily flashed into Call’s mind and he turned towards Tamara expectantly.

“Wait so you don’t have a problem with Havoc? Is he the one that led you guys to me and Jasper?”

Tamara finished scribbling a few words before turning her attention back to Call. She hadn't even asked any questions yet, and she was already writing. It wasn't like Call minded particularly, but just how long was his “interview” supposed to take? 

“Aaron already explained Havoc to me. He is a Tamaskan wolfdog who just happens to look similarly to a warg,” she said, glancing at the pair, “And he did not lead us to you and Jasper that was just forethought on my part. You see, that wasn't the first time Drew had pulled that stampede trick on us. That was how me and Aaron got separated in the first place, so when the three of us got back together again, when you were sleeping, we decided on a rendezvous point just in case it happened again and lo and behold it did,” Tamara explained. When Call nodded his head in understanding she continued to finish. “Basically when neither of you returned, we just headed back from where we came in search of and Jasper was leading you towards us and we met in the middle. Make sense?”

“Right,” Call said simply. His mind was still stuck at the first part of her overly long explanation. Aaron had made up some wolfdog species and identified Havoc accordingly? Call’s mind did a few more flips before it settled: Aaron had defended Havoc. He had defended Call too. For whatever reason, Aaron really believed in him. He had thought he hadn't, but everything that he had just learned said otherwise. For some reason the thought made his heart rate speed up and Call most definitely blamed it on Jasper’s blood. The stuff was like an energy drink on steroids.

“All right, if you don't have any more questions I am going to go ahead and start okay?” when Call hummed his affirmation, Tamara started once again, her voice scarily serious, “Make sure to answer all questions honestly and be aware of the fact that Ecclesia will and can use this information in the future to both help and incriminate others all in the name of purging the evil that is Dracula.”

“Wait-What? Why does this sound like a legal cas-”

“First question,” Tamara said, ignoring Call’s interruption. “State your name.”

Call frowned, “You already know my name.” When Tamara spoke no further, Call relented, “Call.”

“Full name.”

“Callum Hunt,” he said tediously.

Tamara wrote it down hastily before proceeding to continue. “Second question, how exactly did you manage to get into Dracula’s castle and Third question, who did you meet first?”

“Havoc ran away on the night of the solar eclipse and I went looking for him and then I collapsed suddenly and when I woke up again, I was at the moat in front of the castle. I met Jasper first there.”

Tamara hmmed, her pen constantly scribbling away. “Fourth question. Where did you obtain your firearm and how did you come into possession of holy bullets?” 

Call gulped. She had asked this question before. He couldn't remember what he had said, or really anything about that time, but he was pretty sure he hadn't answered honestly. Well he was already half drowned in his own pile of hidden secrets and lies, one truth would at least keep him from wholly suffocating… For now.

“I found it in some bushes, and took it,” Call said. Vague and honest, just as he hoped most of his answers could be.

It wasn't that Call really wanted to lie to anyone, only he felt too afraid to tell anyone too many truths. Call him a coward, but he had heard so many different things from so many people, he couldn't really tell who was right. He wanted to trust Tamara and Aaron, but she had literally only stopped trying to kill him minutes before. 

Tamara raised one of her perfectly plucked brows, her lips turned downwards. “I thought you told me you got your gun from your twice removed uncle who ran an antique store before his death, who sent you different porcelain dolls until the week before his death when he sent you this gun fully loaded. And then you said that you had put the gun with one of the dolls but on the night Havoc ran away he had been playing with this doll and you had woken up with fragments of the doll and the gun in your hand.”

Call gawked at her. That was what he had told Tamara all those days ago? No wonder he couldn't remember it. He was a complete idiot. But at the same time Tamara had really believed him, so didn't that make her… Call cut off his line of thinking completely. He was not about to follow through with that line of thinking.

“I was kinda’ going through a little bit of shock at the time so I was just kind of saying whatever, I ,uh, really found it in the bushes,” Call said, scratching his cheek and attempting to look as non-suspicious as he could manage. 

Tamara lowered her brow, but she didn't really seem wholly convinced. Even so, she continued to write in her journal before moving to the next question.

“Fifth question: Where did you learn to fight and why?”

“I’ve never been taught to fight,” Call said rather quickly. All of the fights he got into after school couldn't have been counted as formal training, and he most certainly was not going to mention that to this group of ‘Cool Kids’. Call still had some reputation to upkeep.

“So you were able to take down Rahab, a monster who weighs over one hundred and fifty tons, and can use magic without any training at all? Not to forget the fact that you came out completely unscathed,” she stated. The tone her voice had taken on now seemed rather skeptical and unbelieving. Almost as if she was accusing him rather than questioning him.

“I had Aaron.”

Tamara raised a hand to her temples, seemingly exhausted with the conversation. “Yes, you did,” she muttered. It was the first time her pen had stopped moving and Call knew exactly where her tired state had stemmed from. Obviously from her constant writing. If she had wanted him to talk slower, she should have said something.

“And I had Call,” Aaron said good-naturedly.

Jasper, Havoc and Aaron seemed to have slowly floated back to the area Tamara and Call had been sitting and seemed pretty content on staying there. Tamara glanced around at them for a moment before sighing and snapping the journal shut. 

“All right, Call, last question. Are you willing to swear to not speak to anyone outside of this room about the subject of Dracula as it is confidential to Ecclesia and all of its confidants?”

“Sure.”

She seemed to cringe slightly at his response but said nothing about it otherwise. Tamara straightened her back after putting away her journal and turned to Call sternly. “All right, I am going to brief you about our mission, and once it is completed and we are out of the Castle, I am taking you straight to Master Rufus because you are the biggest anomaly I have ever met,” Tamara declared. 

“Master Rufus? Who is that? He sounds old and wrinkly.”

Aaron looked at Call, amusement clear in his voice, “He’s our teacher and however old he is, he doesn't have any wrinkles.”

“Black doesn't crack,” Jasper added helpfully.

Call felt the corner of his lips turn upwards a bit, but felt more nervous about meeting ‘Master Rufus’ more than he let on. He was fine with meeting any other punk kid, even if they were like Jasper, but what if an adult like Master Rufus could tell he was a vampire? Things could go pretty downhill just starting there. 

“Okay, enough about Master Rufus,” Tamara said, though there was a fond gleam in her eye. “Our main goal is to defeat Drew so we can make sure he doesn't inherit Dracula’s powers at the end of the month. But we can’t kill him until all of the other main monsters are defeated. If we don’t kill them now, then when we go to fight Drew, he will be able to summon them to action which ultimately ends in us getting plummeted. So we kill the big monsters now, and Drew last. Does that make sense?” 

Call nodded his head. It was like Tamara was explaining a video game plot in order to defeat a boss. 

“There are six monsters we need to kill by the end of next week. Jasper and I have already defeated Gergoth. You and Aaron have already defeated Rahab. That leaves four major monsters left. Beelzebub, Scylla, Legion, and Arthroverta are the last ones we need to kill and we need it done before the lunar eclipse at the end of the month. Any questions?”

“So, why do we need to kill them by the end of the month?” 

“Because at the end of the month is when there will be a lunar eclipse. At the exact moment that happens, Drew will be strong enough to inherit Dracula’s magic and thanks to the excess power of the darkness given from the shadow placed on the moon, he will basically be able to break the entirety of the castle out from its eternal prison within the moon. Upon his return he will rain hell fire upon humanity and destroy everything good and pure in the world,” she said. “Anything else before I continue?”

“No,” Call murmured.

“Alright then, to conclude we need to defeat the last four monsters ASAP and they're both in opposite directions so the most efficient plan would be to split up.” When no one else said anything she proceeded to speak, “Aaron and I-”

Call fell backwards with a dramatic intensity he didn't know he possessed. 

“Please, no Tamara. Please don't pair me with Jasper. I’ve been with him far longer than anyone should be in their entire lives, and that's just a fact.” 

Jasper narrowed his eyes, slinging his arm around Call in an overly-familiar manner. “You just have yet to realize my amazingness va- Hunt,” Jasper corrected smoothly, “Even though you're annoying, I think we could make a good team.”

Call almost felt his eyes pop out of his head. The reason Jasper wanted to pair up with him was most certainly so he could keep an eye on him. They both knew each other's secrets so if they were paired together they could make sure neither was saying anything to anyone else. But Jasper, in Call’s humble opinion, was the real criminal in the situation. He was really trying to betray his friends for whatever reason, which meant he was the only real threat out of the three of them. Who knew if Jasper might try to reconvene with Drew during their trip and Call would have to sit there and watch. But if he went with Tamara or Aaron he would have to pretend to be nice.

Call’s weird sort of logic seemed to make a bit of sense, even if it was only within his own head. He quickly turned his attention back to Tamara, his grey eyes pleading.

“Please let us pair up together, I don't wanna be with Jasper!”

Tamara looked at him, pity evident on her face, “Listen Call, both of us are support types. Yes my magic is very powerful but I need someone to be on the front lines fighting to have enough time to cast my spells. You shooting your gun from the back is also a support role. Jasper uses a spear and Aaron uses his whip or sword. It would be smartest to either put you with Jasper or Aaron.”

“I wouldn't mind pairing up with Call. I think we worked really well together when we fought Rahab,” Aaron said. It seemed he had finally chosen to speak up.

Call’s unabashedly hooked his arm with Aaron’s and smiled as sweetly as he could manage. It honestly probably looked more like some mix between a snarl and a scowl, but Call couldn't really care less as long as it meant he wouldn't have to stay within Jasper’s vicinity for the next few days. 

“Looks like we’re a group then,” Call said enthusiastically. Apparently it had been a bit over enthusiastic as Jasper sent him one of the darkest looks he could muster. It was actually pretty scary.


	22. Setting Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is gonna be from Jasper and Tammi's pov ;_; plus something I have been meaning to state since chp4 ... yeah man oh man the plot is finally getting to where I am excitedd we're so close but so far... Sorryy for the slow chapter next one will not be...hopefully

Aaron peered at Jasper, a crease in his brow. He adjusted his arm until it sat comfortably against Call’s and stood up straight, his gaze never wavering. 

“What's with that face Jasper?”

Jasper’s venomous expression evaporated instantly. If Call hadn’t seen it so clearly, he definitely wouldn’t have believed it had been there at all.

“That face? Oh, haha, you see, Mr. Belmont,” Jasper paused, staring straight into Aaron’s eyes unhesitatingly, “I was just examining Call. Just cause’ he isn’t an evil vampire doesn’t mean he isn’t an evil human.” Aaron had begun frowning as soon as Jasper had called him “Belmont”, but his expression didn't improve at the mention of Call either. Despite Aaron’s negative reaction, the Asian boy didn't seem ready to stop just yet either. “We just didn’t want anything to happen to our only precious little Belmont righ-”

“That's enough Jasper,” Tamara said, effectively cutting off the other boy.

Call himself didn't really know what happened, but Aaron’s temperament seemed to have taken a turn for the worst. And Jasper seemed a lot more prickly than he had been seconds ago. To Call’s ears, the conversation hadn’t seemed all that offensive, at least not to Aaron. It was like there had been an entire hidden exchange between the two of them that had somehow ticked them both off instantly. Tamara even had to cut in between them! 

Tamara tucked a piece of hair behind her ear delicately and cleared her throat. Call assumed it was her way of clearing the tension, but in all honesty it didn't seem to do much. 

“Alright, you two take care of Scylla and Beelzebub and Jasper and I will take care of Legion and Anthroverta. We’ll all meet at the base of the Pinnacle in a week's time, okay?”

Aaron nodded his head solemnly. His easy going mood seemed to have been depleted completely and Call still couldn’t find a way to decipher the hidden conversation that had gone on between Aaron and Jasper. 

Jasper had called Aaron a Belmont twice and it had seemed to irritate the blonde immensely. Call remembered Tamara mentioning the “Belnades” and “Belmonts”. These supposedly special surnames means you had cool powers like Tamara’s magic and…Call thought for a second. Maybe Belmonts all had super flexibility or something? Either way, calling Aaron a Belmont could in no way be used as an insult. It seemed like a good thing. 

“Call? You coming?” Aaron asked, already a few feet ahead of him. Call glanced around him. They had apparently wrapped up the conversation in the time he had analyzed Aaron’s mood swing. Glancing behind himself, he was even able to glimpse Tamara’s braid sway as she walked farther and farther away. Well that goodbye had been awfully sentimental. It had lasted so long he hadn't even realized it had happened.

“Y-Yeah, I’m coming,” Call jogged up to Aaron’s place and matched his pace as they began to walk forward.

The effect of Jasper’s blood still seemed to be strong because he still didn’t feel his bad leg at all, or even any slight sense of fatigue. Luckily, Aaron didn’t seem to notice any major changes with the way he walked and they continued forward in silence for a while. Call found himself frowning. He liked Aaron generally. He seemed to be mostly nice and he laughed _with him_ instead of at him. And yet, Jasper had ruined the entire beginning of their journey with his stupid big mouth. Call didn't even understand how, he just had. The worst part was that Call couldn't even say anything. It wasn’t like Aaron and him were that close, he couldn't just try to comfort him. That would be so awkward and weird. 

After walking for what felt like an eternity, Aaron finally sighed loudly and let his shoulders sag. He ran a hand through his golden hair and gave Call the best smile he seemed he could manage at the moment. Call was not jealous in the slightest about the fact that he still looked like model-material when he disheveled his own appearance. If he ran a hand through his own hair, he would have resembled a wild monkey in a jungle somewhere. But he mostly felt glad that Aaron had shaken off his daze.

“Sorry, Call it's just,” Aaron sighed once again, his hand running through Havoc’s fur absentmindedly as they walked. “I know Jasper can be a real prick sometimes, but he only becomes like that when he’s nervous or threatened. He’s not actually a bad guy.”

Call guessed his face looked pretty disbelieving as Aaron quickly raised his hands and furthered his previous statement.

“I’m not making excuses for him or anything, it’s just- he’s been through a lot and he kind of acts that way to everyone.”

“He doesn’t act that way to Tamara,” Call muttered.

Aaron scratched his neck in an embarrassed sort of way. 

“Yeah, they’ve known each since they were kids, and…”

“And?” Call prompted.

“I think he kind of liked her at some point in time,” Aaron finished in a small voice. 

Call almost felt his eyes pop out of his head. Of all the things he had experienced up to this moment, this was by far the most unexpected. Jasper liking Tamara?! Sure she was probably the prettiest and strongest girl Call had ever met, but like… Like what? Call found his eyes unknowingly drawn to Aaron’s profile and he stared at him oddly for a moment. Call shook himself out of his reverie and stopped walking to emphasize the insanity that he was about to repeat aloud. His own personal weirdness could go on the back burner for the next ten years. He would deal with it later.

“Jasper likes Tamara?!?’

Havoc seemed to sense Call’s shock and he ran in circles around him while Aaron peeked sheepishly over his shoulder at the pair. 

“I don't know about now, but I think he used to…” Aaron said, his voice still soft. “It was just this one time back in junior high when I had first come to train at Ecclesia. We were all probably around eleven years old and Tamara had been my first friend there. And at the end of each year Ecclesia holds a celebratory dance for successfully keeping Dracula at bay for yet another year… Anyway, that year Tamara had asked me to go with her to the dance and without thinking twice, I said yes. A few days earlier, I had been in the bathroom and heard Jasper reciting poetry. Something about the beauty of her sparkling eyes and dark hair…I didn't realize it until later, but I think he had wanted to ask Tamara to the dance.”

Call was still trying to get over that Jasper could both feel and write poetry but he was able to utter a much more sensible question. 

“Did you ever ask him about it?”

“I had meant to but,” Aaron sighed, “The next month Jasper’s dad openly defected to Constantine’s side. I mean he was already going through so much, and we weren't that close… I just didn't want to upset him any more than he already was.”

Call hummed his affirmation. So that was what Drew had meant. Since Jasper’s dad apparently worked under whichever big evil guy was currently ruling in Constantine’s stead, Drew could easily dispose of him at any time. Not only that, it seemed to be a known fact that Jasper’s dad had left Ecclesia since here Aaron was telling him all the facts. Jasper hadn’t been a traitor at all, in fact he had wanted exactly the same thing as Call: to save his dad. 

Silence once again enveloped the trio as they began to walk forward. The only sound was the clicking sound of Havoc’s claws on the stone. Call watched as his tail swished back and forth as he walked, a spring in his every step. He couldn't help but wonder how easy Havoc’s life must be, how carefree. He didn't have to worry about relationships or parents, or anything really. 

“Must be a pretty easy life living as Havoc, huh Call?” Aaron asked, a tired smile painting his face. 

Call looked at Aaron, clearly shocked. 

“Dude, I was literally just thinking that,” he exclaimed, half-shocked half-worried. What else had his brain been broadcasting to the world?

“I guess we’re just in sync or something,” Aaron offered, shrugging. 

Call turned his face away and began walking forward at a more swift pace. He had never been in sync with someone before. What did that even mean? Something stupid probably.

“Trust me, you don't wanna be in sync with me,” Call mumbled rather quickly.


	23. The plight of Vampirism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Formatting for %70 of this chapter is messed up cause I typed it on my phone... I am really sorry! There will be action soon, I swear... The games are nowhere near as slow as I am... ^^; also sorry for the trash endings constantly haha I don't wanna keep you guys waiting too long but also some chapters just get really long ( •ᴗ• )

Aaron and Call chatted randomly about different topics as they proceeded through the empty halls of the castle. Call got so immersed with the conversation he had forgotten to ask Aaron where exactly they were even headed. Even so, it was kind of nice talking to someone about normal and random things despite being trapped in a demonic castle. Their conversation was even pleasant enough to distract Call from some of the more "dangerous" things plaguing his mind. Overall the entire experience was pretty good. It was only when they reached a particular dark deep crevice in the usually solid stone floor, did Call come back to his senses. 

Upon closer inspection the crevice wasn’t actually much of a crevice at all; in fact it seemed to be more of a pitch black hole that gave way to more and more nothingness. It reminded him vaguely of his own mind: dark, empty, and unrecognizable. Call quickly choked out a laugh in an effort to dispel the depravity of his own thoughts. That had gotten dark pretty fast. Aaron gave him slightly confused look.

"Hey, Call, don't you think this is all pretty weird?" Aaron asked, his hand on his chin.

"Which part, the fact that vampires are real and are currently trying to kill us or the fact that Jasper is still able to change his hairstyle everyday despite not even having a comb?"

Aaron stood still for a moment before breaking out into chuckles. 

"How does he do that?" The blonde asked genuinely. When Call answered with a shrug, Aaron quickly regained his composure and corrected his previous words. "What I meant is like, isn't it weird that we haven't been attacked at all? This entire time? We've been walking for like two or three hours."

Aaron was right, they had been walking for a while without being attacked, but it wasn't odd for Call. He hadn't been attacked at all unless one counted the Alura Une who hadn't really even attacked him. They probably all stayed away because they could somehow sense he was a vampire. Maybe they felt some sort of kinship with him. Now that was really weird.

"Uh, yeah that is weird," Call said belatedly. He was not about to incriminate himself. The fifth amendment usually would have protected him from such a fate, but Ecclesia seemed to make its own rules. And Call was not about to make any more mistakes lest he accidentally give Aaron another reason to suspect him. The blonde seemed trusting enough, but he definitely wasn't dumb. 

"You don't think-" Aaron started, but was quickly interrupted as Havoc leaped into the darkness with not so much as a yap. 

Both boys froze for a millisecond before simultaneously shouting the dog's name in unison.

"HAVOC!!!"

After a forlorn yelp sounded from the darkness, Call felt himself breath out a sigh of relief. That dog of his could really make him go crazy sometimes. Jumping and going wherever he wanted… Who did he think he was? 

"We shouldn't let him stay down there alone for much longer. Let’s head down, Scylla should be somewhere around there anyway," Aaron informed helpfully. And then he reached out his hand towards the shorter boy "Ready?"

Call made a rather distorted face and motioned towards the ominous hole casually. 

"Ladies first, right?"

"I thought I was the hero and you were the damsel?" Aaron laughed, smiling mischievously. 

"I'm pretty sure I said cripple not damsel.” Call scoffed. Him being a damsel? What was Aaron even thinking? The only damsel in their group was obviously Jasper. “And don't go getting a big head Stewart, I'll be right behind you.”

Aaron gave a half shrug, a teasing smile still painted on his lips. 

“Well, here I go! Geronimo!” Aaron shouted as he leaped downward. 

Call watched in complete awe as Aaron sailed into the darkness gracefully. He even heard the heels of his boots click on stone as the blonde most likely stuck the landing. Call wondered if he could do that now that he had drunk Jasper’s blood. He sure as hell was going to try. 

Call neared the hole and peered over its edge. The darkness had only seemed to get blacker as both his friends entered into it; the longer Call stared the more it seemed to spill over the edges. It was like a pool of thick ink the colour of pitch, pouring over the edges of its container and swallowing everything in its eternal darkness. Call couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from it. Something about it seemed so familiar...

“Call?” Aaron called from below. 

Call immediately snapped out of his reverie, his thoughts scrambled. 

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Call answered back. 

Without wasting another moment dawdling over the edge, Call leaped into the darkness below, scrunching his eyes shut in trepidation. There was a short period of time where he felt like he was floating before finally hitting the solid ground.

Upon landing, Call felt a hot spiking pain climb up his left leg which caused him to hiss and crumble forward. At least he had landed on something soft. Oh wait...

"Call are you okay?" Aaron asked, his earlier teasing tone replaced with worry. Even despite the fact Call had fallen on him, and he was the one who would have taken the most damage from the jump, the blonde was still asking if he was okay. Typical heroic Aaron. 

"I'm fine," he quickly pushed himself off Aaron and attempted to stand, only to feel his leg cramp up again. He quickly grabbed at his leg in an effort to quell the throbbing, but he ended up losing his balance instead; he fell backwards rather painfully. Call even thumped his head on a well placed rock near the bottom of his descent and it took most of his will power not to curse. 

He was still trying to make a good impression on Aaron after pushing him down the stairs okay? Even if he had already made a complete fool of himself.

"Call!!" The blonde cried out, rushing down to his side. Call watched through squinted eyes as the blonde easily scaled the rough terrain without taking a single breath。If he had drunk more of Jasper's blood he may have been able to do that too. He might have even been able to make the jump too. Not that he would actually drink anymore of anyone's blood. He had only done it that one time because circumstances had forced him to. It wasn't like he was counting on doing it again... He really wasn't. "Call, do you understand me? Can you answer? Are you okay?"

By the time Aaron ended asking his flurry of incessant questions, Havoc had also joined the scene and had begun sniffing at Call's head as if he was a trained medical examiner. Like the dog's nose was capable of sniffing out a head injury. Aaron watched the pup seriously, as if he was awaiting the diagnosis. Call swatted away Aaron's worried hands and Havoc's nose. 

"No, I'm not okay," Call started, stopping mid-sentence in order to make sure he had both of their full attentions. When Aaron's eyes began to bulge, Call decided it had been long enough. "Who even says "geronimo" anymore?"

Aaron gaped at him for a second. When he finally caught onto the fact that the shorter boy was indeed alright, he let his lips fall back into a familiar smile. 

"Says the one who's wearing bell bottoms."

Call laid his head back on the stone, letting a rare smile slip through.

"I wouldn’t be so confident telling me that when you're wearing that," Call paused for a moment examining Aaron’s old victorian-esque attire. What was he even wearing? Call didn't think he had a word in his vocabulary to describe the odd clothes. “Vest?”

“I’m pretty sure you can’t say that if you don’t even know what I’m wearing.”

“Touché.”

Call was glad Aaron took easily to their friendly bickering. It gave his leg a moment to recover.

After a few moments of messing around with Havoc, Aaron rose to his feet and stretched. Call followed suit -albeit a little painfully- and finally took a moment to gaze about the area he had fallen. 

Apparently they had fallen into a completely new area yet again and it was surprisingly nowhere near as dark as it had appeared from the outside. It was like he was in a giant cave created out of black-blue coloured rocks. There were odd patches of some weird looking moss-lichen cross growing all over the place and Call felt very glad he had landed on Aaron rather than whatever that was. It grew in small clumps of green, sprouting pustule looking red lumps that seemed to swell the more he watched them. Gross.

And the most odd part of it all was the phosphorescent stones up above him. They resembled glowing green gems lighting the path in an almost mystical and mysterious way, yet Call sensed that their beauty wasn't as genuine as it appeared. Maybe it was because the gems seemed to wiggle and move if he looked for too long. Rocks shouldn't be moving. He simply supposed he wouldn't look at anything too long in the caves. That seemed like the best course of action.

Even Havoc seemed out of sorts. Where he usually would be sticking his nose into anything that looked particularly interesting, he seemed to be eyeing the stones and moss with as much disdain as Call himself. 

Call breathed out a puff of air and rubbed his arms in an effort to warm them. It also seemed to be completely freezing. Perfect way to top off this amazing experience. Whoever was running the stupid castle needed to check on the thermostat as soon as possible. 

“Let’s take care of Scylla fast, and get out of here,” Aaron said, obviously sharing in their discomfort. 

“Sounds good to me,” Call agreed easily. And Havoc was quick to yap his agreeing opinion as well. 

The trio headed off in a direction that Aaron had deemed, “totally the right direction” and set off. Unlike the previous areas they had visited, Call felt like he was particularly struggling with the terrain within the caves. He didn't know if it was the uneven rock underfoot, or the fact that everything was slickened with some sort of weird moisture that seemed to permeate the air, but he was running out of energy much faster than he had before. Even the flight of a million stairs hadn't seemed to take so much out of him… Or maybe it was the fact that he had drunk Jasper’s blood. He had never felt as invigorated as he had after drinking it, and now he was finally coming down from his high. It oddly made a decent amount of sense to him. 

But the truly worst part of it of all was the fact that Aaron didn't seem ready to slow down at all. He was still plowing through room after room like he had all the energy in the world. Call was managing to keep up solely out of his desire to not embarrass himself. It was a surprisingly strong will that pushed him forward. 

It wasn't until they approached an intimidatingly large body of water, did Aaron finally decide to stop walking; Call didn't think he had been more thankful for anything in his entire life. Aaron walked on the short stone outcropping that hung over the darkened water, and looked down towards the waves expectantly. Upon catching sight of something in the darkened water, his eyes lit up and he pointed towards it enthusiastically.

“There, that's our ride across this river. Once we’re across this, we can finally make camp and call it a day!” 

Call walked onto the outcropping in an attempt to get a glimpse of their so-called “ride”. Surprisingly enough, a silver boat seemed to have floated their way and now bobbed steadily, the dark waves lapping at its edges. Call could have sworn that the boat hadn't arrived until they had, but astonishingly there seemed to be no ferryman to have paddled the boat there. There was only a single silver oar connected by a chain.

The entire structure glimmered mystically in the reflection of the dark waves, in an almost inviting way. Call scoffed, like anyone would be stupid enough to board such an obvious trap.

Call frowned, Aaron wasn't really pointing to this boat was he? The blonde would have to be crazy to trust a creepy boat to carry them safely across. He voiced his thoughts desperately.

“You don't really mean to, like, actually get on this thing right? I mean how would we even get on it in the first pla-”

Havoc leaped from a small area on the outcropping they had stood on and into the boat easily. The boat rocked slightly when he landed, but showed no signs of sinking or capsizing. The display of the boat’s sturdiness did little to comfort Call.

“Just like that!” Aaron responded confidently. 

Even though the boat’s stability hadn't impressed Call, it seemed to have really given Aaron the last bit of assurance he needed. Great. Just great, Havoc was going to accidentally drive Call insane one of these days.

"Okay, so I know it might be kind of shocking, but I don't think I can… I don't think I can-"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes, I trust you, it's the boat I don't trust. Who knows where that creepy-"

"Hang on," Aaron said, grinning slightly at Call's frantic speech.

Call honestly had no idea where Aaron was going with all his nonsense. According to the physics class he barely passed, jumping from the outcropping to the boat should be impossible. Not to mention the obviously rigged-and definitely creepy as hell- boat. And maybe, just maybe it didn't have anything to do with physics or magic. Those were just excuses, maybe Call just really didn't want to on the boat. Obviously this was- His thoughts came to a screeching halt as he felt an arm wrap around his waist. _Wait, what?_ Call's thoughts short circuited for the second time that second as Aaron easily lifted them both and leaped across the distance with ease. The blonde had even managed to land so delicately, the boat didn't shift at all.

Aaron quickly released him after landing, the tips of his ears red. His earlier grin had morphed into something more sheepish and embarrassed.

"Sorry, Call. I know you don't like being touched, but you looked really tired and I didn't want you to get your skin burned off by the freezing poison water, " Aaron took in a single breath inward and then looked closely at the toes of his boots, "Sorry."

Call was in far more shock than he was in anger. He hadn't known the water was poisonous. He also didn't know Aaron had superhuman reflexes. It made sense, in fact he even remembered speculating it at one point, but really seeing it in action was a completely different story. Tamara's magic would have been shocking too if Alistair's disappearance hadn't been overpowering it. Call's brain only had so much room for dealing with such things.

"So, are you human?" His current stupid line of questioning probably meant he was pretty darn low on brain energy.

Aaron's eyes widened a little at the question, but he answered earnestly as he began to row. 

"Yeah, we all are. Everyone is except Drew and his dad."

"Who's Drew's dad? Have I met him?"

Aaron seemed to contemplate for a moment before carrying on.

"I don't think you have, but you'd know if you did. He's super intense and all he talks about is Dracula. I guess it kinda' makes sense since he is the one behind all of this "trying to revive Dracula and take over the world" stuff. He's really crazy. "

Call tried his best to keep his face from paling. He had most certainly met a character with a similar description. But to even imagine it was Drew's father… No wonder he turned out that way! The apple never really did fall far from the tree! So that meant that Constantine really was dead huh. And Drew's dad was the problem. He would need to add that to his mental "possible people trying to murder me and my dad" list. 

When Aaron gave him a tense look, a drop of cold sweat ran down his back. Call worried his bottom lip in an effort to look as nondescript as possible. Had something obvious shown on his face? Had Aaron caught something he shouldn't have seen? 

"Look, Call, I know we haven't known each other for very long, and I know that you've probably been through a heck lot more than your letting on, but please know..." Aaron paused for a moment, his eyes shining solemnly, "That you can rely on me."

Call made the mistake of looking into Aaron's shining eyes. It was like he was consumed by the desire to simply share everything, to disregard Drew's father's words, to let go and tell Aaron everything. But Call bit his tongue until he tasted iron in an effort to keep his secrets safe. He had heard this line before. And none of them kept it. The only person who had was his dad. Who could say Aaron was any different from them? Even if he wanted him to be different.

His decision weighed on him more than he expected. He wanted to tell Aaron everything, but there was just too much risk. He didn't know why, Aaron was just… He was just different in some weird way. Call barely understood it all himself. However now that such an offer had been made, Call couldn't stay silent. He had to say something.

"So are all vampires evil? Do they all have to be killed no matter what?"

Aaron looked at him, clearly surprised he had answered, but was quick to reply.

"Everything born in this world has a purpose."

"You can't really tell me hornets and mosquitos need to be alive," Call interjected. 

"What I mean is," Aaron amended, "That every vampire doesn't have to be evil. Sure that may be what lots of people think, but I mean look at Drew. He's not evil, just misunderstood. I'm not gonna kill him or anybody for that."

Call rose his brows.

"You're not?"

"No, I'm not. I haven't told Tamara or anyone yet, but I'm not gonna kill Drew just because he made one bad decision. Being a vampire shouldn't have to equal death for anyone."

Call couldn't keep the shock from entering his face. He didn't know what he had expected when he had asked that question, but it surely wasn't such pure and honest resolve. He hadn't expected Aaron to answer that way at all.

"Even though you're a Belmont?" Call asked. He cursed himself as soon as it left his tongue, but it had inevitably slipped past his filter. He just hoped Aaron wouldn't give him the cold shoulder.

"Especially because I'm a Belmont."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also my sister said I should do a Christmas special. And i was kinda like??? Should I? I would definitely have to break from the original plot and make up a sub plot, which may or may not delay updates but I could do it if you guys would like it. Please tell me in the comments!


	24. Someone Else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a double update cuz Im gonna update again in the next 24 hours I swear. Merry Christmas Happy holidays I hope everyone is having a wonderful time of year. I am sooooo sorry for the crazy long update time and the Christmas special that is about to come out is all I can offer as an adequate apology. There are probably errors riddled throughtout both of these chapters so I am sorryy!!! ;_; this chapter was supposed to be posted eaerlier but I ended up scrapping it and then rewriting it so super duper ultima sorry once again!!!

“It's because of _that_ name that so many people look up to me, so I have to set an example.” Aaron was no longer looking at Call, but instead down at his feet. His brows were furrowed with determination and his shoulders were tense, yet he didn't seem to waver at all in his beliefs. Even though Call was almost positive Ecclesia wouldn't accept his decision with ease- at least judging on how quickly Tamara had tried to wipe him out when she had ‘discovered’ his vampirism. 

“Did you ever even know Drew?” 

Aaron gave a half shrug.

“I mean we used to attend classes together in Ecclesia, but I never hung out with him. He didn't seem to like me too much.”

Call nodded, unsurprised. Who would have guessed that Aaron, who was handsome, strong, and popular, also had a perfectly straight moral compass too. He didn't even need to know Drew to want to save him either, Aaron was just that _good_. The stupid blonde even put his undying faith in Call, whose moral compass seemed to have been close to one too many magnets. It was so screwed up he even lied to perfect, kind Aaron who might have even tried to help him. What was wrong with him?

“Call?” Aaron asked, unknowing of his current mental meltdown.

Despite wanting to cover his face, Call looked upwards painfully.

“Yeah?”

“Did you ask the question about the vampire because that person who you mentioned you were looking for is a vampire?”

To even think he had wanted to hide his face earlier, now the desire was multiplied tenfold. Aaron’s question was like a double edged sword. If Call were to deny it, it would indeed make it look like he himself was the vampire- afterall, who else would he be asking for? But if he were to confirm it, he could be putting his possibly dead father into a difficult position if he was alive. Which he most definitely was. 

Call held his head in his hands. This was the reason why his moral compass was so messed up. How was he supposed to know the right thing to say when every other thing could possibly expose him or one of his million other secrets? The guilt and weight of it all seemed to finally be getting to him, and it was more crushing then he had anticipated.

“Kind of? I mean…” Call bit his bottom lip in dismay, “Maybe, I don't know.”

Aaron opened his mouth, ready to respond but was interrupted as the boat hit a hard stone. They seemed to have reached the opposite side of the river. Both boys jerked forward with the force and Havoc took the moment to sniff at the air dramatically. It took a moment for Aaron to right himself, but once he had waved away the mist that had settled around them, their previous conversation had been forgotten.

“Looks like we’re here.”

“Great.” Call said sarcastically. He was feeling even more drained after his conversation with Aaron. Even if it had been enlightening in a rather pleasant way, it was definitely more exhausting than anything.

“Do you want me to help you ou-”

“No need to waste your heroics on me this time,’’ Call answered rather quickly. He noticed the way Aaron immediately looked away in a dejected manner after his swift and ruthless refusal, but he didn't say anything about it. It wasn't even that blonde had done anything wrong, Call felt mostly angry at himself. Everything was just so complicated. 

Aaron gracefully leaped from the ledge onto the convenient outcropping that stood out over the river. Call was next and he painstakingly made his way to the top. The cimb was hard and painful, but he said nothing. Upon seeing his master’s safe arrival at the top of the outcropping, Havoc also lept from the boat to the stone platform. 

As he landed he didn't waste a moment before sniffing and nudging at Call incessantly. The boy looked up at Havoc tiredly.

“What’s up boy?”

Havoc paced around nervously. Whatever had been bothering him had only been growing on him, and now that he had reached solid ground, it seemed to have reached its peak. The dog gave one last nervous glance at his owner, and bolted down the adjacent hallway. It didn't take long for Call to stand. He watched his puppy dash away in an exhausted stupor before his brain began slowly clicking back to life. Havoc was running away again. It wasn't like the few times he had jumped a few steps ahead, he had really just dashed away for the second time in his entire life. Call didn't have anyone to hold him back this time, he was going to follow Havoc like his life depended on it. 

“Stop, Havoc, Call! Where are you guys going?! Scylla is that way and neither of us are in shape to fight her!” Aaron shouted from behind him, but Call didn't listen.

He charged after Havoc foolishly. The situation was far too familiar with Aaron being the only deviation. Call had encountered the same darkness with his father earlier in the forest and at that time Havoc had ran away too. It couldn't be a coincidence, there had to be something up ahead. Maybe it was Drew’s dad… Or maybe it was _his_ dad.

He passed through each corridor carelessly as he attempted to keep sight of Havoc’s bushy tail. Hope was surging through his mind like a rejuvenating spring breeze. If his dad really was up ahead, he would have to save him and possibly heal him and… A tight smile made its way to Call’s lips. Alistair would know what to do about all of his problems. No more worrying about deception, lies, and vampires. Everything was going to be fine.

It wasn't long until the pitter patter of Havoc’s paws slowed and Call entered into a large cavern. It stunk of ash and rot and disgusting clumps of reddish debris covered the floor. Havoc was pacing agitatedly in the corner, his nose turned downwards sniffing at a specific pile intently. The large chasm was empty except for the two of them so Call felt no need to stop his descent toward the dog. In his haste he ended up tumbling most of the way down and skinning his knees, but he had at least made it to Havoc. 

“Dad?” Call called into the cave. His voice bounced off the stone walls echoing, yet there was no response to be heard and no further path to travel. Alistair wasn't anywhere in sight. Call swallowed thickly, his hopes dissolving as if they had never existed. 

“Havoc, why did you run in here? What's wrong with you?”

The wolf began to whine softly as he nosed at something lost within the debris. Call supposed if Havoc was sticking his nose in the pile of rot it must not have been dangerous so he quickly began digging around in search of Havoc’s current dilemma. Most of whatever was in the pile was wet, sticky, and warm. It was so disgusting, he had to keep a hand over his nose and mouth to keep from retching. He rummaged around before he felt something in the pile move. Call’s arm shot back as if it had burned and he turned to look at Havoc nervously. Havoc had flinched backwards too; he had moved from a curious sniffing position into a haunched ready-to-attack position pretty quickly. Call guessed it was a pretty good time to ready his gun. 

Both stared at the pile before Call’s anxiety overcame him. He shot at the pile multiple times and then stood as still as possible as he watched the steaming pile of red goo steam. 

“You think it's dead, right?” he asked the wolf, though he wasn't particularly keen on getting an answer. 

Havoc didn't seem too enthusiastic in sticking his nose back into the reddish muck so Call figured he had to check himself. Just to make sure, of course.

Peering at the pile from above offered little to no evidence of life and the pile of sludge didn't seem to be deep enough to hide any super dangerous monsters. With that comforting thought in mind, Call sucked in a deep breath and nudged the pile lightly with the toe of his shoe. The muck oozed outwards, but showed no hidden monster. 

Sheathing his gun back into his belt, the dark-haired boy finally felt himself breathe. Defeating Rahab had given him a lot of confidence in the monster-hunting category of life, yet anytime he came close to fighting any sort of beast he couldn't help but feel his heart race. It was both thrilling and terrifying and he was still kind of trying to figure out if he hated it or not. 

After scuffing his shoes off on a decently clean stone, Call was ready to wipe his mind of the entire situation until he felt movement in his peripheral. It was only a slight shift in the darkness of the cave’s corner and the longer he stared at the unsuspecting wall, the more he felt his mind was playing tricks on him. Nothing had moved. When Havoc let out a low growl, Call turned to look at him tiredly. 

“What is it now Havoc? There is literally nothing here,” he groaned, slightly frustrated. The dog had led him on another goose chase and now it was up to him to somehow explain the entire situation to Aaron...Who most definitely had a right to be mad at him considering his recklessness. Havoc let out a low growl once again.

"Care to explain yourself?" Call asked, and this time Havoc barked right back, shattering the silence. "That's it? That's all you're gonna say?" 

The seemingly deranged puppy began to bark wildly at the boy. He bared his teeth at him ferociously and Call glanced around himself in a very confused manner. What was he throwing a tantrum at now? 

"Is it me?"

Havoc continued to bark.

"Is it behind me?"

The dog continued to bark and Call felt completely clueless as to the reason for his dilemma. He reached to scratch his head for a moment and paused when his hand came into contact with something hollow. His blood seemed to run cold as he finally uttered his next question.

“I-is it _on_ me?”

Havoc howled triumphantly and Call took the chance to turn his neck as cautiously as he could around. A large green head peeked right back at him from just over his shoulder, causing Call to squeal in a pitch so high, he had assumed he had outgrown it years ago. 

Without a second thought, he threw both the jacket and the green monstrosity from himself, unsheathed his gun and shot up a storm. Havoc barked encouragingly as Call mercilessly shot up the pimp coat. Other than complete and utter demolition of the monster and his coat, nothing seemed to be out of sorts anymore. Havoc had calmed down too.

“Call, I heard you scream are you okay?!” Aaron asked, rushing onto the scene valiantly...albeit very late. 

“That wasn't me screaming, it was Havoc,” Call quickly clarified, although the disbelieving look Aaron gave did little to comfort his injured pride. “There was just this, man sized green centipede looking thing. And it was kind of, like on me.”

“Uhuh.”

“And I killed it.” Call concluded rather thoroughly. He might as well have tied that perfect conversation up with a nice red bow; kudos to him.

“Right,” Aaron said. He couldn't tell if it was because he was on physically higher ground or what, but the blonde seemed to be looking down on him or maybe he was looking down on the ‘centipede’s’ remains. Aaron was eyeing his steaming jacket with enough scrutiny to send even the stupid monster’s corpse running back to hell. And Call, well, he was wondering if that monster had room for one more. “So you’re good right?”

“Totally. 100%. Tip top shape here.”

Aaron shook his head at Call’s exaggerated answer, a fond smile spreading across his lips and then began to examine the cave. He placed his hand on his chin and spoke, though not directly at Call. He seemed to be talking through his own thoughts.

“This is where Scylla is supposed to be. But she’s not here…” He paused and then whispered, “And the hallways were clear too…Call, that's it!”

“What's it?” he asked dumbly.

“The hallways earlier had no enemies neither did the caves, Scylla is missing from her lair, the most obvious explanation is that someone was here before us. Someone, who isn't me, you, Tamara, or, Jasper is in Dracula’s castle defeating the evil!” 

“So what you mean is,” Call said, connecting the dots as swiftly as he could. “You think the person I’m looking for is the one behind all this.”


	25. Christmas Special

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not required to read this. Its got nothing to do with the plot, its just ridiculous holiday fun MINUS THE END THE SALT IS IMPORTANT. If you look too closely there are plot holes and a buncha stuff I had to cut out since I was short on time. Sorrryyy~ Please enojy this. I used all 23 hours to finish it... haha it has also not been edited yet. No one wrote my Calron Cinderella AU so their waltz scene was my hope for a real and better writer to pick that idea up... @^@ haha plz enjoy. Also Im at it again with the trash endings. Keep on eye on the end of this chapter cause' I might add more tomorrow after I have slept cause it is hella abrupt : D

After their discovery, both boys felt so drained they couldn't even muster the energy to tell each other so. Even Havoc seemed dispirited and lethargic. With a despairing look shared between them, they headed off to a resting room. In this way neither would have to keep watch. As Aaron had explained, the resting rooms were posted all throughout the castle and marked with the signature angel statue Call had admired days earlier. The room offered a brief reprieve to adventurers and kept the monsters at bay somehow. Basically, it was the best thing in the entire castle. Call hadn't even dealt with the monsters so much and he felt that way.

Upon their arrival, the raven-haired boy immediately felt his limbs ache fiercely and he melted into a puddle on the hard stone floor. He didn't even mind the cold harshness of it, exhaustion consumed his mind. Havoc joined him and cuddled closely to his owner. Call couldn't help but wrap his arms around the fluffy wolf and revel in the warmth he released. It wasn't long until Aaron sat down too.

“We can eat tomorrow, if that's okay with you,” Aaron whispered as he began to recline a ways away from the pair. 

Call hummed an affirmation, his eyes already fluttering shut. Before he could truly doze, an icy wind blew from no which direction, burning his exposed skin. He quickly blew out a breath to warm his hands and in an effort to try and quell his shivers. He didn't even want to imagine how bad that might have felt with Havoc gone.

“Hey, Aaron, I thought I told you Havoc doesn't bite…” when Call heard the blonde turn towards him, he cleared his throat and pressed on, “He wouldn't mind if you wanted to, uh, keep warm… with him.”

“It's okay Call, you don't have to force yourself. I don't mind sleeping alone, it's not that cold,” Aaron said, obviously trying- and failing- to keep the chattering of his teeth to a minimum. 

Call widened his eyes for the first time since entering the resting room.

“I’m not forcing myself to do anything, the more the merrier, right?” and when Aaron stayed silent he sighed loudly, “Just get over here already.”

Call heard him shifting and making his way over. As Aaron began to situate himself, their hands brushed and he discovered just what “not that cold'' meant. His hands felt like blocks of solid ice. Aaron seemed to freeze up even more at the bit at the contact, but soon relaxed again. 

“Thanks,” he whispered.

“Mmm-hmm. Night,” Call murmured, his voice thick with sleep. He had originally meant to tease Aaron about his bashfulness, but his eyelids kept fluttering shut. And even though the other boy’s face should only be a few inches from his, Call couldn't seem to focus on it. He must truly be very tired. 

“Goodnight Call.” 

After the brief conversation, both boy’s fell into a deep, untroubled sleep.

Call pillowed his head deeper into his bony arms. It had been his way of making a makeshift pillow, but it suddenly seemed cottony and soft. Almost- might he dare say- comfortable? He rubbed his head into his imaginary pillow, smiling; what better dream could be conjured then one of a cloud-like pillow?

“GET UP!”

Call blearily opened a single eye to glare up at Aaron because no one except his dad could yell at him like that, and wait- Aaron would never yell at him. Call sat up, slightly shocked but also quite delighted at the fact that he was in a bed. Not one that he was familiar with, which in itself should have been slightly terrifying, but a bed nonetheless. 

Lying back down, Call pillowed his head into the luxurious cushion before turning to examine it. It turned out to be no cushion at all. Instead it seemed like wispy tufts of pink clouds had been spun together to create whatever he was currently laying on. He buried his face in it, inhaling as deeply as he could before grinning boyishly. His pillows were pink, cloud-like, and smelled of vanilla and warm sugar? Obviously they were made of cotton candy! 

Without wasting another moment over contemplation, Call took a large bite out of spun sugar, delighting as it dissolved on his tongue in mere seconds. After his discovery, he quickly turned his attention to his comforter which seemed to be made of melted marshmallows. They even smelled faintly of smoke and ash… Call took a large bite of his blanket too. Just as he was getting ready to gnaw on his bed posts that were definitely made of rolled wafers, a loud cough caught his attention. Oh, right, there was someone else there with him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” the person demanded. 

The person sitting in front of him was none other than Jasper, except he seemed kind of different. Call couldn't really put his finger on it. 

“I’m enjoying my good dream. What're you doing? Why did my subconscious let you in here?”

Jasper gawked and then stood from his chair, approaching Call in a slightly frightening manner. He was dressed in frilly clothing that was dyed in different hues of hazelnut, sepia, and coffee. When he stood it was like the scent of warm cocoa filled the air and Call couldn't help but inhale deeply. Jasper sucked, but he at least smelled amazing in this dream.

“We literally have been planning for weeks for this and you have the gall to ask me what I'm doing here?! The ball! That’s why I’m here!”

“I thought this was a dream- hey wait, what about Dracula’s cast-”

“Shut up with your excuses and get out of bed! We’re already late, hurry up and get dressed, I’ll explain everything on our way to the castle!” without wasting another moment, Jasper stomped out of the quaint room, stopping only to give Call a weird look, “And would you stop eating your own house?”

Call stood from his candy bed and onto his peppermint-plated flooring, ignoring Jasper’s comment completely. He picked up the remaining part of his pillow and began to chew slowly as he attempted to understand what had just happened. 

He had gone to sleep in Dracula’s castle and woken up in some freakishly ( a little bit amazing) weird Candy Land. He pinched himself and a sharp pain radiated from the abused spot; this was by far the most realistic dream he had ever had, if it even included such an intense physical feeling. There was even the hyper-real looking Jasper, who wouldn't have made it into any of his dreams unless they were nightmares. He would just have to go with it. Maybe this was some weird magic trial from Dracula’s castle that he needed to pass. And anyway, with everything being so lifelike, the candy sure did taste good. 

After the pain passed, Call stood up again, making his way over to his candy vanity. There was a chocolate-made mirror and he couldn't help but gape when he caught sight of himself. His hair had grown out to look even more disorderly, but his cheeks looked flushed and healthy. Most surprisingly of all was the fact that no dark circles or dirt marred his face. His trip to Dracula’s castle might as well have been forgotten. He even smelled fresh...Almost like peppermint. 

“Are you almost done getting ready? We’re on a schedule!”

“Almost!” Call called back out of habit.

He was currently in a frenzy looking for clothes within the small room, but he wasn't finding much other than peppermint patterned tights and cutesy white bloomers. He was not going out in front of Jasper in either of those. When he finally came upon a hidden cookie dresser, Call grinned and threw it open. To his dismay, it seemed the dresser only contained the exact same outfit on ten different hangers. The outfit was a red and white striped turtleneck matched with the atrocious white bloomers and peppermint tights. He must have been on something when he bought ten million different pairs of the same embarrassing outfit. 

“How long does it even take you to get dressed, you never even look good. I'm coming in,” Jasper said, opening his door unforgivingly. 

“Is this a joke? I am not wearing these!”

Jasper, looked taken aback for a moment but quickly recovered and pointed at Call offensively.

“What's the problem? You're wearing them now, you wore them before! Just put your tights on and let's get on with it!”

Call looked down in horror at his lower body, his face blooming into a deep crimson. He had expected to see the purple and red scars that had once decorated his leg, however; there was nothing on his left leg at all. His left leg looked as unblemished as his right leg. They looked- dare he say- normal? It had a very calming effect on his mind to know that Jasper hadn't seen his mutilated leg and his face almost instantly cooled.

“Hey, does my leg look, like, normal to you?” Call asked, examining his own limb with fascination. What sort of magic dream land had he landed in? And how might he possibly stay?

“Yes…?”Jasper glanced at his leg sparingly before averting his gaze quickly. “Anyway, hurry up. We’re already late,” he said with less force. 

“Uh, do you also have an extra pair of pants I could borrow? Like the full length ones you're wearing?” Call coughed. “Please.”

Jasper’s expression darkened substantially.

“If you don't put on your tights and bloomers in the next five seconds, I’m gonna put them on you myself.”

“You can't threaten me, and you also can't tell me you would wear freaking tights in public!” Call yelled, throwing the unfortunate pair of laundry at the other boy. The pair of tights landed on Jasper’s face deftly.

“If I wore tights in public, I would look _hot_!” He answered promptly, ripping the pants from his face and tossing them back.

“Wear them then and give me your pants!”

Jasper easily dodged the offensive pair of clothing being propelled at him and frowned.

“Okay, stop, you're going to ruin my hair. Now listen, I'll give you two more minutes to change and come out here or else.”

With that he once again spun on his heel, leaving the room in a swirl of cocoa. 

“Like you even have hair left to ruin!” Call called after him.

Once Jasper had left, Call stood up and stared at the stupid piece of clothing hanging on his gumdrop lamp. He hadn't ever expected to miss the Levi’s bell bottoms he had picked up in Dracula’s castle, but suddenly he felt lost without them. There was just something comfortable about sweet old denim. With his time running out, Call reluctantly pulled his peppermint-themed clothing on; any sense of pride he ever had, dissolving like sugar in water. 

  
  


“So you finally came out huh?” Jasper said smiling. He eyed Call up and down suspiciously, but said nothing and simply began to walk forward. Taking the other boy’s silence as more of a blessing, Call followed behind him awkwardly.

Instead of dealing with Jasper’s uncharacteristic silence, Call took to investigating his surroundings. No matter how he looked at it, he seemed to be stuck in some sort of mystical candyland world with zero relation to Dracula’s castle whatsoever. They were currently walking on a frosted graham cracker road with piles and piles of powdery snow collecting in every nook and cranny...That actually turned out to not be very real snow. Having stuck out his tongue, Call had realized it was powdered sugar falling from the sky. Not to mention the gingerbread houses that lined the streets. Call’s very own home had been made of ginger snap, and while it was both delicious and festive, it was an idiot’s design plan. Who made houses out of cookies?! 

Call broke off a piece of one of the dark chocolate lanterns that lined the street and munched on it numbly. Even the other people on the street resembled various pieces of candies or sweets. Call’s peppermint-printed tights didn't even stand out in the differing crowd of colours. In the least, anyone that lived in such a place wouldn't have to worry about famine.

“How does everyone living here not have diabetes?” Call asked, finally breaking the silence. 

“For the same reason everyone living here is somehow not obese,” Jasper responded back easily. “Anyway, do you seriously not remember our- _my_ genius plan?”

Call scratched his head. If this really was a dream then it wouldn't really matter what he said to Jasper, but if it was a trial then it might actually matter. He would have to say something.

“It was so lackluster, I forgot.” Call smiled innocently when Jasper slowed down to turn and give him a despairing look. 

“You don't remember Quadro-P?” 

Despite his attempt to remain serious, Call couldn't help but giggle immaturely at Jasper’s try at recollection. 

“Please tell me you're the one that came up with that plan name?” he asked once he had finished laughing. 

Jasper smiled smugly.

“You’re the one that came up with that stupid name, and it was literally your only contribution to the entire plan. How do you not remember that? How much spiked eggnog did you really drink?”

Call shrugged, latching onto the given excuse easily. 

“Enough to make up a secret plan name as good as “Quadro-P” apparently.”

Jasper rolled his eyes over-dramatically. 

“Okay so listen closely, because I’m only gonna say it once. Our plan is called Pickpocket the Prince Plan or for short, “Quadro-P”. We’re gonna go to the ball and while I distract the door guard, you are gonna go dance with the prince. You’re gonna steal his room key while you dance and then motion over to me that you got it. After that, while everyone is distracted, we’ll go sneak into the prince’s room and steal the reward…” Jasper explained excitedly. When Call murmured his response he raised his voice.“Hello?”

“Right, right,” Call muttered distractedly. As they had been walking, they had just happened to come across a small patch of yellow snow. According to this world’s apparent logic, it had to be made of some sort of sweet. “Hey, what is this yellow stuff made of? Melted lemonheads or something?”

“Did you listen to a word I said? And no… that's _piss_. What is with you? It's common knowledge not to touch yellow snow,” Jasper said, clearly horrified. 

Call immediately backed away, glad he hadn't touched the foul liquid yet. Obviously not everything in this world was magical.

“How was I supposed to know, when everything else in this place is made of sweets?” Call defended weakly. And then he continued because leaving Jasper with the upper hand was never a place he wanted to be in. “Anyway, I got it. But since this is _your_ grand plan, shouldn't you be the one to dance with the prince and steal th-”

“Shhhh!!! You can't say ‘prince’ and ‘steal’ in the same sentence in public! We don’t wanna get caught before we even start Quadro- P!” Jasper whisper-exclaimed. In Call’s opinion, his outburst had garnered much more attention than this comment. “And you aren’t charming enough to distract anyone. You’re better at ticking them off which is why we have each of our jobs respectively.”

Call gave a half-shrug, he was kind of right. 

“So what amazing reward are we risking our freedom for?”

“Look!” Instead of answering properly, Jasper dashed up the remaining graham cracker path and sighed enchantedly. “There it is, the place of dreams.” 

As Call made his way to Jasper’s side, he felt his jaw drop downwards on instinct. A palace made solely of translucent sugar towered in front of them, shimmering as the setting sun illuminated it in soft pinks and golds. The sugar seemed just clear enough to peer through, and Call found he was even able to make out the different colourful figures swirling about within the main ballroom. Delicate crystalline arches decorated the surrounding sugary towers making the entire thing seem like it came straight out of Disney World. Only this candyland version wasn't stealing the money of naive kids. Jasper was right, it was the place of dreams...both literally and metaphorically.

“Wow,” Call praised whole-heartedly. 

“Wow indeed, now let's go and get our treasure!” Jasper responded back, making his way to the back of the entry line. Call walked slowly after him, still completely awe-struck. 

It wasn't long before they reached the door guard, and Jasper grinned toothily before pulling out two golden slips of paper from inside his coat pocket. The guard took them easily, waving them both inside. 

“See? I’m a natural, he totally believed those were real,” he whispered to Call still grinning. 

“Yeah, a natural idiot. Anyone could have done that,” Call whispered back. Jasper narrowed his eyes.

The inside of the castle didn't seem to lack a bit of the beauty the outside had boasted of so proudly. A sparkling chandelier made of golden rock candy twinkled above them and reflected off the crystalline walls, bathing everything in its soft shine. Better yet was the entire banquet of food they had laid out. Ten-layered cakes adorned with flowers towered over the dancers, and truffles as well as a numerous amount of other sweets left the air smelling of sweet vanilla. The entire display looked both gorgeous and appetizing, but Call could really go for something salty... He needed something to refill his own bitter attitude; all of the sugar he had eaten was making him go easy on this odd slightly nicer version of Jasper.

“Jasper?!”

Both boys spun around at the exclamation and it took Call a moment to recognize who he was looking at. It was Tamara, but she looked different. Really different. Her hair was tied up with ribbon and she wore a brightly coloured dress that poofed around her legs and stopped just short of her knees. Glitter covered the first layer of silk, gleaming in every which way she turned, but it didn't compare to the lovely reflection of gold in her dark eyes. Even though she was dressed eccentrically, Call couldn't deny the fact that she looked _really_ pretty. 

“Scram and find the prince. The real door-guard is here,” Jasper whispered to Call quickly before turning back to her, “Hey, I didn't know you would be coming to this par-tay, Tamara.” 

“I live here Jasper.” she dead panned. 

Call didn't waste a moment in escaping after that. Jasper was on his own after that awful opener. 

Getting lost in the crowds of satin was easier than he had anticipated and soon enough even the banquet was out of sight. The swirling colours of passing dancers blurred his sight together and he found himself tripping backwards in an effort to not get trampled. 

_Stupid tall people with their stupid dances_ , Call cursed as he began to lose his balance. How was it that these people didn't see him, and try to stop? Luckily for him, a quick hand caught him mid-fall and Call turned to his rescuer, thanks on his lips.

The scent of cinnamon enveloped him before a single word could be spoken. It was warm and spicy and oh so familiar. He knew who had saved him before seeing him. 

“Nice timing,” Call said, a small smile falling in place on his face. He didn't know why that happened so he hastily tried to regain his normal scowl, but the other seemed to have already caught sight of it given his returned smile.

“No problem,” Aaron replied easily.

He wore a cream coloured button-down with burnt-sienna breeches and a matching vest. His golden hair was dyed a deep honey colour from the golden light within the castle and, close as he was, Call was able to see the sharp definition of his well-defined jaw bone. The lighting in Dracula’s castle had really done the blonde dirty, at least considering how nice he looked when he was illuminated by the golden light of a chandelier. If Tamara was the prettiest girl in the ballroom, which she definitely was, Aaron was probably the best looking guy in the room. They probably made quite the pair. He unconsciously frowned.

The small pin that was attached to the lapel of his coat certainly did not go unnoticed by the shorter boy. It was small and gold and in the shape of a very suspicious tiny crown. Call didn't even try to hide his obvious scrutiny towards the small object. It was all the proof he needed to determine the fact this was indeed the prince. The entire situation made sense once he thought about it. Tamara had just said she lived in the palace, and she and Aaron always seemed to be together. Aaron was the prince and she was his knight or something. After all, Tamara was too cool to be _just a_ princess. 

Appearances aside, Call really needed to think about what exactly he was doing. Jasper, his “quest-giving NPC”, had instructed him to steal Aaron’s key, but now he was having second thoughts… Because it was _Aaron’s_ key. Call narrowed his eyes. Was it really _his_ Aaron, though? This was just some weird dream world anyway, even if he did act ridiculous the blonde wouldn't remember it or anything.

The shorter boy rubbed his chin contemplatively. All he had to do was get the fabled reward and he would probably wake up or get sent back to his own world somehow. Which meant he could embarrass himself as much as he wanted. That made things easier. Call finally turned his attention back to Aaron who seemed to be lost in a world of his own thoughts as well.

“Hey, this might sound kinda’ weird, but I think we were _mint_ to dance together,” Call said, grinning toothily. His mirth didn't last long.

Aaron took a moment to look at his peppermint-printed tights and then quickly back to his face. It looked like a slight smile was pulling at his lips.

“You do?” he asked earnestly. 

Call felt his face heat up. After saying something so stupidly embarrassing and actually getting a serious response back, he was quite ready to melt into a pile of nothing and stay, preferably, as far away from Aaron as possible. 

“Probably?” Call peeped, refusing to meet the other boy’s eyes. His earlier declaration of confidence had seemed to disappear with his sugar-rush and now he felt horribly awkward. That probably meant he needed to eat more candy so he made more sugar-induced bad decisions. At least that way he would have something to blame for his lack of good decision making skills. 

“Have you ever waltzed before?” the blonde questioned.

Because somehow he was already a pro...Was there anything he wasn’t good at?

“Nope.”

“Just follow my lead,” he said naturally, pulling Call’s hand back towards the mass of twirling figures. 

Call barely had a moment to register what was happening, but somehow his hand had ended up on Aaron’s shoulder while his other hand was clasped firmly in his. The blonde’s other hand rested on his upper back, pulling him close. It was kind of snug, but somehow, more than anything, it felt kind of _right_. 

Aaron didn't waste another moment before joining the mass of figures and Call could do nothing but follow along reluctantly despite it having been his idea in the first place. He felt a bit like an idiot as he clunkily tried to trace the blonde’s graceful steps, yet despite his efforts, he always seemed to be a step ahead of him. Call watched his feet closely in an attempt to mimic him once again, however, Aaron’s soft whisper brought his attention upward. 

“Call,” he started, leaning in closely. His breath had the faint smell of cinnamon apples, “Don’t look down. Just follow my steps and match them to my counting.”

“Yeah, right, just follow your counting,” Call muttered, far too embarrassed to say much more. 

After his advice, Aaron continued to count softly in his ear as Call attempted to look anywhere except his feet and Aaron’s face. It didn't take long for him to misstep. The blonde had spun him outward and Call, being the idiot he was, had mistaken Aaron’s foot for the floor when he was being spun back into his arms. His left leg was usually shorter so he usually put a bit more force when stepping with it, even though in this world it was as perfect as a leg could get; he still applied the same amount of force. Just on Aaron’s foot. 

“Oh- my bad I-” Call began but he was quickly cut off as he opted instead to watch Aaron’s face contort into a myriad of emotions. First, his eyebrows furrowed as much as they possibly could, then his mouth opened in silent shock and torment, and lastly he seemed to try and amend the entire situation with a terribly wobbly smile.

To worsen it, they had been forced to continue the waltz throughout the entire exchange simply because of the sheer amount of couples dancing. They had nowhere to escape to. 

Call couldn't help but laugh as he watched, and then immediately tried to become more solemn like the other regal dancers surrounding them. 

“I’m okay, thanks for asking Call,” Aaron laughed, a teasing smile painted on his face. 

“I meant to ask, I just, you just make these faces…” Call watched as Aaron’s smile turned to confusion and instantly regretted his words. “I mean you always look really good, you just-” Call blushed as he slowly realized his admission. He was probably putting the red in his own stupid outfit to shame. He really wanted to say ‘I’m going crazy from all this sugar, please do us both a favour and just forget everything I’ve just said’ but Aaron's face seemed to glow with the brightness of seven suns after receiving the small compliment. Call wasn't sure how or why he seemed so elated. He had thought Aaron would have known that he looked like prince freaking charming every day of the week. But even he couldn't tear his own eyes away from the blonde's joyful display much less make a sarcastic comment to negate it. His eyes just seemed locked in place.

They danced in small circles just as the other couples did, their dresses and suits painting the background of blur of colour, yet nothing seemed to be as dizzying as the closeness of Aaron’s green eyes. They seemed to be getting closer too, and it was then that Call realized the waltz was over. The music was getting softer as the sound of strings began to wane and everything seemed to come rushing back to him. Aaron was...Call racked his brain for a word: Aaron was _dipping_ him? Somehow the air seemed to heat up even more as his heart hammered away in his chest. It was beating so fast, Call swore the blonde probably heard it. 

Both boys were out of breath and sweating but Call couldn't help but feel completely entranced. He could see the fluttering gold of Aaron’s eyelashes shadowing his emerald coloured eyes; he could see the red staining his cheeks from the exertion. He could even make out the delicate curve of rose outlining his lips. Call gulped, his own eyes seeming to flitter shut all by themselves. 

***********

“I want in.” she said defiantly. Her hands were placed firmly on her hips and her lips were pursed.

Jasper shrugged nonchalantly. 

“To enter Quadro- P, you must have a _‘P’_ to join. I’m afraid that's the rule my partner made, Tammy. I wish I could help, but-”

“And who exactly is your ‘partner’?!”

The Asian boy made a great deal of looking over the masses of twirling figures and then smiled at Tamara falsely. 

“He is somewhere along, dancing with the prince. Completing my plan. Making history.”

Tamara rolled her eyes dramatically. 

“He was that short emo looking kid wasn't he?” she questioned, and Jasper, being as smart as he was, did not readily confirm the information. “I saw him start to dance with Aaron, the royal stable hand, but not the prince. In fact, not that you would know this, but the prince isn't coming out of his room until the first waltz finishes. Which it just did.”

Jasper did his best to keep a polite expression on his face and smiled carefully.

“Would you like to join Quadro- P Tamara? I suddenly think that my partner and I will have too much of that reward to keep to ourselves, and considering the season, sharing is obviously caring.”

Tamara shook her head, clearly exasperated, yet far too accustomed to her friend's antics. 

“I don’t know why you act so difficult sometimes Jasper. We’ve been working together since we were little, and I was always the smarter one.” she gave him a pointed look and Jasper couldn't help but smile back as fond memories resurfaced. 

“Keep up with that confidence, and maybe you will be one day,” he replied jokingly. 

Tamara seemed like she wanted to say something more on the subject, but Jasper quickly put up a hand to stop her. Instead he pointed toward a pair of dancers, who at least to Jasper, seemed to be getting a little too close. Without a thought, he plucked a small jawbreaker from a decorative sitting chair and chunked it across the ballroom. It hit Call squarely on the head and Jasper smiled happily at his precision. Tamara barely had a word in before Jasper tut-tutted her right after. 

“The reward will pay for that.”

She rolled her eyes.

“What have I done ever to you that would make you decide to throw a freaking jaw-breaker at me from across an entire room with thousands of people standing between us?!!” Call exclaimed, pulling Jasper down to his level. And then in a more quiet voice in the Asian-boy’s ear, “I was about to get his key! We were so close until you decided to try and murder me.”

“You are an idiot.” Jasper replied simply.

“I don't see what makes you Einstein,” Call retorted, his earlier line of reasoning completely forgotten. 

Tamara pushed between the two, efficiently separating them and making a pathway for both her and Aaron. 

“We don’t have time for your squabbling. The prince will only be out of his room for a short amount of time. We’ll need to be in and out before anyone realizes anything is missing.” 

“Wait I thought-”

“Oh just shut up and come on already,” Jasper said, pulling Call along. 

*********

The group had taken to following Tamara, who had instructed everyone to follow her without error. Jasper and Call seemed to have no other leads except for her and Aaron, well, Call wasn't sure about him, but apparently he was following along too. 

“So you’re telling me that Aaron isn't a prince at all and that the little crown pin he wears symbolizes that he's a ‘royal stablehand’?” Call asked, completely dumb founded.

“Just because someone has a crown doesn't mean they’re a prince. I mean look at you with your Walmart bloomers. They don't make you a Disney princess.” Jasper offered helpfully. Call frowned.

“It's no surprise you mistook him for one,” Tamara started, “I mean he looks more like a prince than the real one.”

“Are you saying you thought he looked hot?” Jasper asked.

Call, couldn't tell where the question had come from, but his cheeks seem to heat significantly. What was Jasper even thinking about? The conversation was about princes, not about attractiveness… Not about Aaron being attractive. 

“No, I never said he looked hot,” Call stated firmly, “What I meant was he kinda stood out to me, that's it.”

A pretty smirk stretched across Tamara’s lips.

“I think he was talking to me, Call.”

“I was,” Jasper confirmed, “But that answer was much more interesting than anything you might have come up with, so I am definitely not complaining.”

“I thought you stood out too,” Aaron said, smiling brightly at Call. 

“I never wanna be stuck with the three of you at the same time again," Call muttered embarrassedly.

Despite his embarrassment, the conversation continued rather pleasantly. It was almost as if he fit in with the odd group. The thought was pretty nice, once Call thought about it. But the conversation quickly lulled as they approached their destination: The prince’s bedroom. 

" So who is the prince then? And how are we supposed to get into his room?"

"We're obviously going to have to break in," Tamara said, deliberately ignoring his first question. And then after messing with her skirts for a moment she added, "Aaron, if you could help me with this please."

"Wait, so are we even sure that Mr. Goody-two-shoes blondy here is willing to commit crimes? I wasn't under the impression he was invited to Quadro -P and it's dealings," Jasper said, eyeing Aaron suspiciously.

" How has Aaron ever hurt you Jasper?* Call interjected, but the blonde was quick to calm the conversation.

"Tamara and I have been planning to get the reward for weeks now. Meeting you and Call was just luck. And I have no problem stealing an already stolen item. The reward rightfully belongs to the people and we're gonna get it back to them."

"Okay Robin hood. As long as you aren't going to slow us down." Jasper said haughtily.

"Can you interrogate him later? Tamara obviously needs his help in breaking down the door," Call said, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, sorry about that Tamara," Aaron apologized, joining her with his shoulder pressed against the door. 

Together the two shoved against the prince's locked door until they heard the door shift and click heavily. Turned out hardened sugar wasn't the most secure thing to make a door out of, but it nevertheless worked in their favour. Breaking in without the key was easy as pie.

Call peered within the sugary room and gaped. The prince's room was covered completely from floor to roof with candy horses. Horses made of licorice, marshmallows, rock candy, and practically any candy that he ever thought of existing. It had all been molded somehow to be in the likeness of a horse. It was like a candy equestrian paradise. To Call, it kind of looked more like hell.

"The prince is Drew isn't it?"

Tamara coughed politely and smiled.

"Yes."

The four stood in awkward silence as everyone tried to adjust to their new surroundings. The room was just that unpleasant. Call felt like he should have said something, but he was too afraid of being sacrilegious in front of the ponies. It kind of felt they were watching him. 

"So, the reward should be hidden in a vault somewhere." Aaron started, and Call finally felt like he was pulled from his ‘pretty pony’ reverie. 

“I bet it's hidden behind that giant rock candy portrait,” Call said, motioning towards the painting. 

The portrait was made artfully with obvious precision despite the fact it was made solely from rock candy. Blue rock candy denoted the sky and different shades of white and brown candy painted the racing horses. Tamara and Aaron lifted it with ease. And lo and behold was the small metal safe hidden behind it. It was probably the most modern thing in the entire candy world.

Call smiled proudly and Jasper took the moment to lean on him familiarly. 

“Not bad for a rookie,” he praised.

“Yeah, don't forget it next time,” Call said.

Tamara was the first to approach the small metal vault and she peered at its keypad closely. 

“Okay guys, there are letters on the keypad so it's safe to assume his password is a name or something he really likes. The word must also be eight letters max. We don’t know how many tries we have before it alerts someone so we won’t do it over three.”

“Try ‘horse’,” Jasper recommended, and then after a second, “Actually try ‘pony’.”

The small vault lit up red and Tamara shook her head.

“Try ‘ponylove’,” Call suggested, shrugging when Jasper looked at him clearly amused.

The box once again lit up red and Tamara frowned. 

“Aaron, got any ideas?”

Aaron swept a hand through his golden locks and then smiled bravely.

“Yeah, I think I got one. Lemme just,” The blonde moved in front of the small box and began to type. “There, I think I got it.” 

The small indicator glowed green and all three gasped. 

“What was it?” Call asked.

Aaron laughed nervously.

“It’s better kept a secret, trust me.”

“It was ‘Alexlove’, wasn't it?” Tamara asked, her arms crossed. Aaron’s obviously bemused expression only confirmed it.

“Who is Alex?” Call questioned once again, even more confused than before.

“It’s _adult_ talk, honey. Now let's get our reward and get out of here.” Jasper laughed, clearly enjoying the entire situation far more than he was letting on. 

Before they could even get the door of the vault open, Drew’s recently destroyed sugar door blasted open with so much force it flug across the room and hit the licorice pony painting. Half of the horse’s licorice mane fell off and Call couldn't help but regret the amount of money and candy wasted on it. Honestly it had been creepy as hell, but it was also pretty amazing.

“You fools dare think you can steal from ME?!” The intruder yelled and Call immediately recognized him as the ‘dog-beater’ from his weird encounter within Rahab’s cave. Only he was dressed like someone from the sixteenth century renaissance. The puffy shorts and tights really didn't suit him. Call actually couldn't even stifle his laugh if he wanted to. 

“Joseph!” Tamara gasped, before throwing open the vault door and grabbing the reward within. 

Without wasting another second, she tossed the small vial at Call and he scrambled to catch it. What could it be? A love potion? An immortality potion? Maybe something that permanently staved off diabetes? Call peered at the small label on the vial that read, ‘salt’. He almost choked.

“We’re risking our lives for less than an ounce of SALT?!” he shouted, catching the attention of everyone within the room. He distinctly saw Joseph’s eyes darken at the mention of the mineral.

“Aaron,” Tamara directed, “Pick him up and use route X to escape. Jasper and I are gonna hold this guy off. We will meet at the rendezvous point at twelve am sharp.”

Tamara unsheathed two gingerbread-made tonfa and nodded at Aaron. The blonde nodded back; a silent understanding passing between the two of them. Call was still pretty sure everyone in the room was actually insane considering they were fighting over table salt. 

“Wait, how am I supposed to help you?” Jasper asked, “I should go with Aaron and Call.”

Tamara smiled prettily, wiping a strand of wavy hair from her face. 

“You’re my moral support. I’m counting on your quick thinking to find a way out of this situation or for your witty retorts to stall him long enough for me to think of a plan.”

Call swore Jasper had never looked so happy before in all his life before that moment. 

“Come on Call, we’ve gotta go!” Aaron called, pulling at his arm. The shorter boy distinctly saw the blonde inching towards the window.

“Wait, you don't mean-”

“You’ve already told me you trust me, so I hope you don’t mind if I take a few liberties,” Aaron said, sweeping Call up bridal style and posing heroically on the window. “We’ll be waiting for you Tamara and Jasper!!”

Without wasting another moment he leapt from the window without a shred of doubt, and yelled as they descended into darkness.

“You're insane!” Call shouted as wind and frozen powdered sugar swirled around them.

“Yeah, but you still like me, right?!” Aaron yelled back, holding Call tightly. 

“For some reason!” Call yelled back rather fondly.

Sure he was falling to his death in the arms of the closest thing he could call a ‘friend’ he ever had, but at least they were falling together. Wasn't there some saying about all things being better together? 

It was in an instant when Aaron’s legs landed on solid ground. Except it wasn't in a horrifying way with his tibia shooting up his thighs. It was more like he landed gracefully on some floating piece of red wood. Call wasn't sure what exactly had just happened but they weren't falling and neither of them were dead, so it all kind of just worked out in the end. 

Aaron’s perfect golden hair was tousled and covered in more flecks of powdered sugar than he could count, but he was grinning pretty wide so he figured it was all good. Somehow.

“Holy shit.” Call said, still clinging to the other boy.

“Y-yeah,” Aaron agreed. He faltered for a moment before collapsing backwards onto a pile of convenient cushions. 

Call quickly climbed off his lap and examined the blonde.

“You okay?”

Aaron nodded weakly, his smile still present.

“Yeah, just gimme a minute.”

Call hummed an affirmation and set out to examine where they had landed. Turned out the ‘floating piece of red wood’ was actually a sleigh. And it had been brought to them from no one other than Havoc, who had reindeer headband on with a festive bell on his collar. 

“You’ve saved my life again buddy!” Call called out, and Havoc responded back with a very joyful howl. 

Call smiled gleefully and collapsed onto the cushions next to Aaron. 

“Will Tamara and Jasper be okay?”

“Don't worry,Tamara’s a master of the tonfa. She’ll make sure they both get out safely.”

Call nodded in understanding and put the vial of salt up to the moonlight.

“So why exactly would the people want this?” he asked.

“I was actually under the impression the reward was thousands of chocolate coins. I was planning to give them all back to the people, but seeing how it's salt, I kinda don't know anymore. Why would anyone want salt?”

“I dunno either,” Call muttered, pocketing it. 

With the soft fall of powdered snow and the warmth of Aaron against him, Call once again found himself drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

“Merry Christmas Call,” the blonde murmured.

“Merry Christmas Aaron.”


	26. Encounter with the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the comments!!! I read and love all of them! This chapter was a lot of things and then it became not so many things and then I deleted it and now I have what is left here. Tammi and Jasper will get their time in the spotlight but for now I am just gonna focus on getting outta the castle so I can set some plot down. Thanks for everyone's patience and I hope you enjoy the chapter ~~ Oh yeah so for any fans of the games the dream world was a lowkey reference to SOTN's dream boss the succubus. There is a special savepoint that is purple that takes you there and the special savepoint here with the angel holding a mistletoe was supposed to be a sort of parallel to that. Also the holy ashes Call has found... I've played SOTN a million times and always thought Alu was tossing holy salt at his enemies hahaha boy was I wrong, but nonetheless I have tried to amend that as much as I could

Call awoke with a start. He felt chilly and extremely disoriented. The hard stone poking into his back at least let him know he had returned to reality… if one could even call Dracula’s castle such. Rubbing the remaining sleep from his eyes, Call turned his attention to Aaron and Havoc. The blonde was busy setting out dishes of breakfast-related foods while Havoc sniffed around each one in a very innocent way. 

Despite it having only been a few days, the sight of Aaron awake and preparing breakfast seemed normal. It was almost like a sort of routine he and Havoc had fallen into ever since Rahab. He didn't want to admit it, but he really clung to the single bit of consistency in his life. 

Call stretched one last time before using the edge of the statue to help him stand to his feet. He didn't notice the piece of mistletoe hidden within her clasped hand.

“I had the weirdest dream last night,” he started, approaching the pair. 

Aaron looked up from his task and smiled.

“Morning to you too Call.”

“Can you actually even tell?” Call asked, and he got a shrug from the blonde in response.

“Tamara is the only one that carries a working pocket watch in here since phones don’t work inside the castle.” he explained, “But, yeah, I had a kinda weird dream last night too.”

Call had been ready to agree and mention he had seen Tamara’s pocket watch in previous days, however, Aaron’s sudden claim made him hold his gaze for a bit longer. 

Both boys stared at each other in complete silence. Even Havoc didn't seem keen on breaking it. Neither was willing to mention any of the events their subconscious had brought them, yet the unspoken question was at the forefront of both of their minds. Aaron was the first to test the waters. 

“Peppermint?”

Call’s face paled at the mention of the candy and he looked at Aaron completely wide-eyed.

There was no way…

“That was really you in that dream!!? Why didn't you say anything?!”

Embarrassment and regret flooded his mind in waves. If only he had known, he would have never asked him to dance- or do anything in that matter! Did friends dance and stare into each other’s eyes?! Was that normal? Call chewed his lip viciously as he went over event after event in his head in an attempt to check himself.

Aaron didn't seem to share his dilemma at all, though he did look slightly taken aback.

“You didn't say anything so I thought you didn't know anything either!!”

Completely exasperated, Call covered his face with his hands before shoving them in his pockets and falling on his bum dramatically. His leg protested the action slightly, but more importantly, his hand nudged something hidden in his pocket. Their previous conversation forgotten, Call pulled the small pouch from within his pocket and stared at it dumbly. Had he put this in his pocket?

“What is that?” Aaron asked, obviously as confused as he was.

“I dunno,” Call replied, pulling the drawstring apart. Despite looking ages old, the small cloth pouch seemed to be sturdy. Almost as if it had been made to hide something important. On the top of the opened bag was a thin silken glove, which seemed pretty useless. Underneath the glove were piles of piles of a small grayish white powder. It had looked like salt, but upon closer inspection it resembled ashes more than anything. Call’s eyes narrowed sufficiently. 

“Salt?” Aaron asked incredulously. 

“Not salt, it looks more like ashes,” Call said. 

It seemed that the small vial of “salt” he had collected within the “dream-world” had somehow transformed into a larger sized pouch filled with ashes. Maybe the vial had been filled with ashes too, and they had simply mistaken it. Without thinking, Call scooped up a large portion of the powder in order to examine it up close, but he quickly flinched backwards and dumped it straight back into the bag. A cloud of dust rose between the two boys and Aaron looked at him oddly.

“You okay?”

Call chuckled weakly, masking his pain.

“Y-yeah, I just wasn't expecting the ashy-feeling.” 

Aaron smiled, completely oblivious. 

“Well, I guess we won’t be able to season our eggs with this then,” he said, dipping his own two fingers into the pouch. Call choked on his words of warning as the blonde pinched it between his fingers unflinchingly. “I wonder why it's ashes...Ash can’t do anything special,” Aaron murmured aloud. “Well, just hold onto it, Call. Maybe we’ll find some use for it later and anyway.”

“Yeah, I’ll hold onto it,” Call said. “So, I know that this is random but, could I ask you something a little more serious?”

Aaron perked up at the mention of importance and he nodded his head.

“I know we need to go and kill Beelzebub but since you think my dad is the one that killed Scylla, maybe we could, uh, you know, look for him after? A little bit? And then meet up with Jasper and Tamara?”

Aaron’s eyes had widened a bit when Call had mentioned his father, and it made him realize he had never mentioned who the “someone” he was looking for actually was. Now that he thought about it though, he didn't really mind Aaron knowing since it didn't make a particularly big difference. Since his dad was obviously surely alive. 

It seemed to make a big difference to the blonde. His eyes seemed to glow with a certain light when Call asked him about it. The light reflected all the hope, trust, and positive feelings Aaron contained, yet didn't say. They seemed to glow so intensely that Call had to avert his own gaze, lest he let himself fall into Aaron’s natural charisma. Glancing at him one last time, he decided that expression was fitting for a hero. 

“Of course,” Aaron said, placing his hand on his shoulder, “We’ll definitely find him.”

Call nodded and offered a weak smile to show thankfulness for Aaron’s efforts. The blonde seemed to take the weak smile as worry for his dad, and while that was partially true, Call’s current dismay was over his hand. 

As soon as Aaron turned back around, Call examined the effect of the ashes on his skin carefully. It seemed to have distorted and warped his skin, leaving small bloody holes over what had used to be smooth flesh. Call couldn't help but stare in complete disgust and horror

“Sausage?” Aaron asked, his back still turned.

“I’m good,” Call answered, trying to swallow his own nausea. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Call ended up feeding most of his breakfast to Havoc in an effort to make Aaron believe his appetite was normal and he apparently bought it considering his lack of questioning. Havoc seemed to be pretty happy concerning the outcome too. 

It seemed like the holy ashes were actually used to kill the evil hordes that lived in Dracula's castle, not be kept by them. Aaron was the one who should have gotten the reward in the dream, not him. Though now that he had ahold of them, Call wasn't too keen on letting them go; who knew if someone might try to _ash_ him to death. On the other hand, the “useless" glove ironically turned out to be the most useful thing he had collected from the dream. When it was worn, he could touch any holy item without taking any sort of physical damage. It was transparent too, so he could wear it constantly without arousing too many suspicions. He practically had a completely foolproof vampire disguise now. 

"You seem awfully smiley, should I be worried about something Call?" Aaron joked and Call had to quell his growing satisfaction in order to feign normalcy. 

Call had discovered all of this on their way out of the caves and while he had been doing a pretty good job of keeping up with Aaron in both speed and conversation, he seemed to have gotten a little ahead of himself.

"Worried? You should be excited...because I am," Call stopped mid sentence in order to think of an excuse, "Going to show you some sick gun moves during our fight with Beelzebub." He had thought about adding finger guns at the end but he decided it would oversell the point.

Havoc snorted and shoved Call as they walked, grabbing the attention of both boys. 

"Looks like Havoc doesn't believe you," Aaron said, smiling, "But don't worry, I do. Just make sure you look out for my cool sword moves too."

"Yeah, sure." Call responded easily, while simultaneously giving Havoc a sharp look. The wolf gazed back at him coolly. When exactly had his dog gotten so good at reading him?! Call knew his shove wasn't just disbelief about his capabilities, it was disbelief at the genuineness of his entire statement. 

Call narrowed his eyes at Havoc in menacing way in order to silence him, but instead the wolf dog puffed out a breath clearly unaffected.

"I don't wanna interrupt you guys, but we're here," Aaron said, scratching his cheek. He seemed slightly bemused.

"We're here? How? There's nothing here-oh," Call looked up. "Oh no. Uh-uh. There is no way you expect me to _jump_ back up there."

Upwards about thirty meters from where they stood, was the ledge that they had jumped from to enter the caves in the first place. When they had first jumped in, the entrance had been masked by darkness, but gazing up at the light from the bottom revealed many things for Call. The first being that for normal humans the jump was impossible; for someone like him it was unfeasible. And being a vampire didn't qualify him anymore. He had magic and demonic ponies okay, nothing more and nothing less. 

"It'll be super fast, I promise Call," and then he averted his shining green eyes, "Being a Belmont does have its advantages sometimes."

Call felt his own lips thin. He had done his best to avoid the word altogether, but here Aaron had gone and brought it up all by himself. Despite getting along pretty well, there were moments when the blonde just baffled him. Call wondered how many times Aaron had felt the same about him.

"Well you can go ahead and whisk me away superman, we're not getting any smarter down here." 

Aaron nodded scooping Call up in his arms bridal style. The shorter boy did his best to look anywhere but the blonde’s face, and when that failed he tried to think of as many excuses as he could for the position he was currently being carried in. Or that he had been carried in?! This entire time Aaron had been picking him up and putting him down, and only now did his conscious decide to remember that he had something remaining of his pride. He should be mortified. Even if it was literally the only way for him to physically get from the bottom of the cave to the top, he ought to make sure this stayed between the two of them. 

It only took a second before Aaron leapt upwards with practiced grace, his golden hair blowing heroically. Call clung to his neck as they rose through the air, the shock of rising sending a familiar thrill through his stomach. After they had landed, Havoc leapt in the same parallel arch and settled beside them. 

“So, you know, I was kinda thinking that Tamara and Jasper might be _jealous_ about this, uh, arrangement. So, we should keep it between us.” Call said. He was having trouble articulating the words and using hand motions while trying to not accidentally hit Aaron’s face because for some reason the blonde still hadn't put him down yet.

“What arrangement?” 

Call blinked at him, waiting to see if he was going to catch on so he wouldn't have to spell it for the other boy, but when the blonde simply blinked back he realized there wasn't much more he could do. 

“The fact that you're my personal elevator,” Call said, hoping his phrasing helped eliminate some of the awkwardness. 

Understanding illuminated Aaron’s face and he suddenly seemed to realize he had been holding Call for overlong. He put him on the floor gently and smiled bashfully. 

“Oh right, yeah, sure I won’t say anything to them.” 

Call gave him a thumbs up.

It surprisingly didn't take them long to find the area of the castle that Beelzebub resided in. It turned out they just had to take one left instead of a right and they were in “The Necromancy Laboratory”, as Aaron called it. Because of the lack of enemies, Aaron really seemed to believe that his dad was somewhere around, but Call knew the only definite evidence was Scylla back in the caves. In the least, the lack of combat allowed Call and Havoc time to sightsee. Although it was surely cursed, there was always a sense of awe and beauty to every new area Call entered. It was almost as if the castle beckoned to him, and the Necromancy laboratories seemed to be no different. 

Unlike the previous areas, the laboratories consisted of both overly-wide rooms and absurdly tall towers. There was only a single thing that didn't change between the differing architecture: the white alabaster. The floor, stairs, and elevators were all made with the same pure looking rock and engraved with rhombuses and hexagonal shapes. Within the towers, the walls were made of thin pieces of glass overlaid with shining metals; gloaming skies shown through the panes, painting the alabaster in twilight. It looked pretty nice.

Overall, the best thing about the laboratories, however, was the elevators. They weren't like the ones he used to ride in back at the doctor’s office with shiny metal walls and glowing buttons. These elevators had no walls, they had no buttons either, they were made only of two thin rods of metal connected to a small slab of alabaster and a large spring connecting it to some hidden mechanism within the ceiling. It was practically a giant pulley. Sure the science behind it was dated, but the ride was devilishly fun. Because pulleys operated on balance of weight, when the three of them stepped onto the single slab it rushed downwards at a speed fast enough to make them shout. 

Call looked at Aaron, a wild gleam in his eyes.

“That was terrifyingly awesome,” Call laughed, still slightly out of breath. 

“Yeah,” Aaron’s eyes shared the same look and his hair had settled messily around his eyes. “I think there are a few more up ahead too.”

Both boys grinned at each other and dashed ahead, in search of their next thrill. The next elevator wasn't difficult to find, but Aaron came to a screeching halt in his running causing both Havoc and Call to skid roughly behind him. 

“It's broken.” Aaron said, clearly deflated. 

Call walked around Havoc and peered around Aaron’s shoulder to glimpse the broken pulley. The slab of stone had mostly fallen away, leaving only a thin ledge to stand on. Looking at it, Call wasn't even sure how he was gonna take Havoc down with him.

“I guess we could go one at a time,” Call offered, his adrenaline draining. “Just how is Havoc gonna go on this thing? The lift isn't even wide enough for him to stand on.”

Aaron looked at Havoc and the wolf peered back at him silently. 

“I could carry him, if he doesn't mind that is,” Aaron offered. 

Havoc yapped excitedly, his tail swishing side to side.

“I mean he doesn't mind, he's just pretty heavy, I can barely lift him…" Call paused as Aaron effortlessly lifted the wolf into his arms.

"I think I've got him," he said, his face half covered by Havoc's head. 

Call nodded as Aaron put his first hesitant foot onto the stone slab. The stone seemed to crumble a bit under their combined weight and it took all of Call's will power not to shout a warning. He didn't want to scare Aaron into losing his balance, but he also didn't want them to fall to their deaths because of outdated technology. 

Aaron and Havoc disappeared into the darkness and Call only realized the pulley had come to a stop because of the silence. There had been an awful scraping metal sound when it had been in action, yet There was no sound at all now. Call couldn't even hear himself breathing.

“Aaron?!" He shouted into the silence. It took a moment, but the distant sound of Aaron's voice echoed back up to him 

"The elevator is stuck!!! "Aaron shouted back and Call glared at the outdated mechanism with as much malice as he could muster. Things always had to go wrong didn't they?

"Try to push it up, I'll pull the spring!!" 

After his instructions, Call hastily moved to pull at the spring, however, it didn't so much as creak. The thing might as well have been super glued to the floor. No matter what he did it wouldn't budge. Call heard Aaron shout something to him, but he couldn't understand.

"What?!"

This time he was only able to pick out the word "climb", but he could easily figure out what the blonde wanted him to do. Aaron wanted him to climb down the giant spring. Having already ran around so much, Call knew his leg wouldn't be able to take that much exertion. He would end up falling and breaking his neck some time before the halfway mark.

"I Can't climb!!There was a path behind us leading up, I'll take it and loop back around!" Call yelled.

"What??!"

Call sighed. This was getting inconvenient fast. 

"GO ON WITHOUT ME!" He called out, his face turning red from the exertion.

Aaron was silent for a moment and Call took it as understanding. He turned on his heel and walked back past both elevators and onto the stairwell. He had spent quite a bit of time in the castle completely alone and it had almost driven him crazy. If the elevator wasn’t going to work, he would make his way back around with his own two feet.

Honestly, he was a bit desperate to reunite with Havoc and Aaron. The last thing he wanted was another confrontation with Joseph. The thought made him hurry up the stairs faster than he meant to and his leg cramped up in protest, stopping him mid-step. 

Call huffed, holding his leg in an attempt to quell the pain and found himself unconsciously gazing up. A long stretch of hallway was in front of him, but unlike the rest of the laboratory, this hallway didn't have a single candle to illuminate it. It was completely dark, yet somehow Call could feel a burning gaze peering at him. Someone-or thing- was hidden in the darkness and staring at him with as much intensity as they could muster.

"Show yourself!!" Call commanded, but nothing emerged. He gulped loudly.

Readying his gun, Call stood to his feet, his heart pounding noisily. An odd groan resounded from the darkness and he didn't waste a second shooting three bullets into the direction it had come from. It was dead silent after that. Yet somehow Call knew he had to go into this hall; there was no other path for him to take. Steeling himself seemed impossible, so he simply took a few deep breaths and walked forward.

The hall was shorter than he had anticipated, and soon enough the darkness gave way to a large room. Call stepped into the light and froze stock still.

The last time his feet had been glued to the floor was when he was with his father in the forest. Traveling around with Aaron, Tamara, and Jasper had taught him very quickly that standing still was the very best way to get yourself killed in the middle of combat, yet no matter how Call willed himself to move he couldn't. He was rooted by a combination of fear and shock. 

“You’re Beelzebub,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “We have to defeat _you?_ ”


	27. Beelzebub

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKayyy so once again for the very sweet and beautiful comments I am very thankful for ALL of them ;). But also I am excited to say some updates abt this fic in general... I remember saying that I was going for an Ecclesia ending, but in order to flesh this fic out and really get it to be what Im imagining Im actually gonna switch stuff up. So like there are gonna be books and the Ecclesia ending I was talking is actually gonna be stalled till the end of book 2... I am gonna go for a more "Dawn of Sorrow ending" for book one... I am trying to update more frequently then one month so I hope everyone enjoys and I just wanna thank everyone for reading this for so long!! You guys are amazing ^^

Beelzebub was a giant corpse of some forgotten species. He hung from the ceiling limply with hooked chains that stabbed into his already decayed and rotted flesh. At the mention of his name, the corpse had seemed to become livid and trained his bulging blood red eyes on Call. He opened his mouth in what seemed to be an attempt to speak, however the hook that pierced the back of his neck and protruded from his ever-open mouth kept him from speaking sensibly. Instead, his attempt only served to cut through half of his upper lip sending thick clumps of black blood dripping into his opened mouth. Call narrowed his eyes, and peered closely at the clumps of blood, regretful understanding filling his mind. The “clumps'' were actually small groups of maggots oozing out of Beelzebub’s fresh wound. And now that he took a good look at the entirety of the corpse’s body, he saw maggots festering in porous holes all over his skin. 

Both the sight and smells seemed to catch up with Call and he turned and retched, expunging the little material he had even had in his stomach. After he felt he could stand again, Call tried to turn back around but when he caught sight of the giant corpse, he couldn't stop himself from gagging until his throat was raw. The putrid stink of decaying flesh was suffocatingly strong; no matter his efforts, Call couldn’t seem to expel it from his lungs. 

“Don’t breathe in the air Call! Cover your nose and mouth!” Aaron shouted from below. 

After taking his advice by pulling his turtleneck over his nose, Call was finally able to muster up enough strength to turn back towards Beelzebub. Aaron was standing in the far left corner of the room, where Call assumed was another entrance. He looked like a small action figure from where he stood and it shook him when he realized just how high up he was. Call was standing face to face with Beelzebub whereas Aaron wasn’t even high enough to touch his rotted toes. He needed to regroup with him.

Glancing down at the two platforms below him didn't seem to offer any way down and for whatever reason, there were no stairs connecting the highest platforms to the ones below him. They were just floating slabs of stones. Boy would he have given his physics teacher a run for his money if he had gotten a picture of this.

“Watch out!” 

Call rolled roughly out of the way after Aaron’s exclamation and then frantically looked around to identify what exactly he had just been warned about. A large fly buzzed past him nonchalantly, as if it hadn't seen him standing there. No, large was an understatement, the fly had been bigger than him and just like Beelzebub, it had been its own brand of terrifying. Other than its size amplifying all of the normally disgusting factors that came with being a fly, this insect seemed to have especially unique revolting features Call was pretty sure normal flies didn't have. For instance he was pretty sure flies didn't have swelling red pustule abdomens covered in sharp hair. Or maybe that fly just happened to be pregnant. Honestly the less he knew the better.

"How are we supposed to kill him?!" Call shouted, and while he couldn't truly see Aaron's body language from the distance they were at, he liked to think that the blonde had just shrugged.

“Uh, just focus on shooting his head and heart… I'm gonna work on cutting off his legs," Aaron replied, his voice muffled. He had somehow wrapped his oversized collar around his face to block out the smell, but it seemed like neither of their thin makeshift masks were doing too much good. The only thing that would stop the smell was getting as far away from Beelzebub as possible. 

At his instruction, Call stood and shouted an affirmation before readying his gun to shoot. His earlier roll had sent him very close to the platform's edge and even closer to Beelzebub's face. They were staring straight at each other.

He had no pupils, Call realized, only bloated red sclera peered back at him. They were filled with so much malice and hate it was petrifying. His eyes also seemed to look similar to a fly’s which was kind of ironic considering they were literally living off his flesh. Or maybe it was pitiful, but he wasn’t about to start feeling for a- for a _monster_. Tearing his eyes from his horrendous face, Call let his eyes venture down the corpse's body to find the "heart" Aaron had mentioned. 

Surprisingly, a seemingly healthy pink heart beat within his open ribcage, pulsing almost simultaneously to Call's own heart. A mass of greasy maggots squirmed around it, resembling small gobbets of spoiled cottage cheese. He immediately retracted his previous statement and swore to never use “healthy” and “Beelzebub” in the same sentence ever again.

Swallowing his vomit, he sent his well-wishes to Aasron who had to currently dodge the oncoming projectiles of doom, and finally aimed his gun towards the beating heart. After perfecting his aim and shooting at the pulsing muscle a few times, it dawned on him. His bullets weren’t doing anything. Beelzebub's heart had seemed to stutter in its beats with the first bullet, but after multiple rounds of firing it did little more than splurt a few drops of inky black blood. He might as well have been tossing super charged toothpicks at him.

Looking down below, Call was able to see that Aaron wasn’t faring much better. His sword, while deathly sharp, required him to leap in a perfect arc each time so he could even reach his knee. Really though, why did Aaron even need to cut off his legs? It wasn't like Beelzebub was going to walk off somewhere. He was quite literally _hooked_ to the place he was at. 

“Hey Aaron, you should come up and try to destroy the hea-” 

Call stopped mid-shout as he sensed something behind him. He didn't know where the intuition came from, but he knew he needed to move backwards, or away, something; unless he wanted to get turned into fly food. It looked to be the same pregnant fly who had tried to catapult itself into him earlier, but Call didn't really have the time to personalize his situation. Glancing backwards reminded him he was still on the edge of the platform. He couldn't jump over the fly, which meant he had nowhere else to go but backwards. He had to jump off a cliff, knowing it might kill him. Great.

As soon as he saw the man-eating fly at its closest he knew he couldn't delay any longer, he took a step backwards and his breath hitched as his foot landed on nothing. Call squeezed his eyes shut to brace himself in some sort of way, however he quickly found that he wasn't falling at all. In fact, it seemed that time had slowed to the very millisecond and every breath he took was shortened to the length of a single heartbeat. The fly was still coming toward him, yet when it should have come in contact with his physical body, it passed right through him, almost as if it were flying through nothing at all. Call gasped as he saw a shadow of himself, inches away where he had previously stood, glowing red with his power. The image only lasted for a second before wind blew past him and merciless time resumed once again, reminding him that both his feet were still off of the ledge.

“Shit!” he cried, as his opportunity to reclaim his footing was lost. 

He didn't know what exactly had just happened with his magic, but he was pretty sure he had somehow magically evaded that fly’s attack by somehow creating a magic shadow double. It couldn't have been a soul since they hadn't killed anything recently, but maybe it was just a natural skill all vampires had. He had been so shocked at the moment he had lost his chance to jump back onto the ledge and now he was falling again. Call’s mind whirled as he attempted to come up with a solution to his own stupid lack of coordiantion. He could summon a Night Mare to break his fall, but that would alert Aaron to his magic… Unless Aaron had already seen him accidentally use his dark magic up on the top platform. Suddenly falling to his death didn't seem like the biggest problem he had at hand; he might have just exposed his vampiric nature to Aaron !

Before he had a chance to contemplate any further, Call fell onto something with enough force to send pain rippling through his entire body. Everything was silent for a moment as pain overtook his senses, numbing every other sensation around him to a dull buzz. He faintly heard Aaron shouting something and then everything came crashing back into focus. He hadn't hit the ground like he had originally thought, he had fallen straight onto one of Beelzebub’s chains and was currently flailing around like a fish out of water. Despite being so long, the chains that held him were surprisingly thin, so much so that he was having trouble clutching onto it and not falling another eighty feet.

At least one good thing was confirmed though: if Aaron had called out to him, that meant he still liked him, generally at least. In the least it meant he couldn't have seen his magic up there. Call was still in the clear.

“I’m good Aaron!” Call called back. He wasn't exactly sure about what exactly he had said before, but looking at him now made him think the blonde should really be worrying about his own situation more than his. 

Aaron was beset on all sides. Large maggots covered the floor ahead and behind him, while flies scoured the air in odd formations cutting off any upward escape route. Somehow the blonde had managed to cut off one of Beelzebub's legs, yet it hadn't seemed to achieve anything more than angering the flies even further. Aaron looked around hopelessly as he slashed at both flies and maggots in some last attempt to try and gain some ground. Call knew he had to help him.

He inched forward on the chain, careful not to accidentally flip himself. He was dealing with enough nausea with just the smell, he didn't need anything else. Once he had managed to get as close to Beelzebub's body as possible, Call stopped moving and peered back down at Aaron. The blonde had been pushed farther backwards now; he was so consumed by the swarm of flies and maggots, Call could barely even catch a glimpse of him. They had practically formed a wall around him.

He needed to do something and fast. He had been wasting this entire battle away dawdling, while Aaron had been holding off enemy after enemy, trying to do his best to do _something_. He couldn't use his gun- but of course! Call wanted to slap himself, but instead opted to reach into his pocket with his gloved hand. He had holy ashes!

Call didn't waste a moment, tossing a generous handful of the white ashes at the swarm of insects that hovered toward Aaron. Although they didn't give way, the wings of many of the flies caught fire and sizzled away, leaving their fat bloated bodies to fall onto the ground. He supposed this was the best chance Aaron was going to get.

“This is your chance Aaron!” he shouted while still tossing ashes down. More flies fell, but it seemed like ten stronger and more able flies took the place of every single fly Call took down. It was like they were endless.

As if on cue, the blonde stood up and sheathed his sword, instead opting for something more suited. He pulled a coiled silver chain out from his belt and cracked it, sending more of the incessant insects out of the way. At the sight of the new whip Call felt his heart skip a beat, but he quickly realised it wasn't the same as Vampire Killer. This whip, while definitely holy, didn't scare him half as much. 

Aaron struck with the whip again and this was successfully able to make a boy-sized hole within their impenetrable formation. The whip gleamed brightly every time Aaron wielded it, almost making it look like it was flickering with starlight. The bugs seemed to hate the flashy display, which worked perfectly to Aaron’s advantage; he slipped through easily and dashed directly under Call.

“I’m coming up!” he called, and Call nodded, unsure of how exactly the blonde planned to do that.

Aaron lassoed the sparkling whip for a moment before swinging it directly in front of Call’s face. The shining silver wrapped around the chain naturally and Aaron pulled it in order to test its strength.

“I hope this holds me,” he muttered under his breath. 

Aaron blew on his hands and glanced nervously behind him, checking to see if he had enough room for a mini runway. After making a bit of distance between himself and the lowest chain, he ran forward and leaped, latching onto it like he was simply jumping across monkey bars. His body swung back and forth loosely, and Call couldn’t help but swallow thickly. Aaron’s body resembled a shaking leaf, only if he fell, it wouldn't be serenely into some picturesque pond. If Aaron fell, it would be into the sea of wingless bloodthirsty flies and there would be nothing he could to save him. 

Aaron strained to pull himself onto the chain standing and when he finally did Call released a breath he didn't know he was holding. The blonde was barely balancing atop the thin iron links, but he didn't look as sure of himself anymore. Aaron looked nervous. And the growing pile of flies down below didn't seem to be helping. 

A demonic fly whizzed past him, causing the blonde to flail his arms desperately, but Call could tell from above that he was going to fall… That was if he didn't jump.

“Just jump! You can do it!!” he cried, anxiety overtaking his voice. Call wasn’t usually one to encourage, but this situation was killing him. If Aaron didn't jump in the next five seconds, he swore he would have a heart attack. 

Aaron did jump, his form was nowhere near as straight or precise as it had been during his first leap, but he was at least able to grab onto the dangling handle of his whip. He was safe and Call was ready to finally give his pounding heart a break, yet fate always seemed to be against him. Aaron’s whip uncoiled rapidly. He didn't even have time to think twice before grabbing the starlit whip with both his hands and hoping the chain would support their combined weights. The silver burned his ungloved hand, but it really wasn't a big price. He just wished his screaming nerves would have understood that and stopped their reminder. 

It didn't take long for Aaron to pull himself onto the narrow chain. His face looked red from exertion and sweat matted his hair. Call wasn’t sure if it was the lighting or not, but Aaron also looked sort of green, almost like he felt just as sick as Call felt. 

“Thanks,” the blonde breathed out, “You saved my life again.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Call said motioning to something behind Aaron with his eyes. 

The blonde glanced over his shoulder and stared for a moment. The flies were forming another wall, only this time they seemed even more determined to actually get them this time.

After staring for a moment, both boys knew they couldn’t take all of the flies down, their numbers were infinite. What they did need was a shield. Something to cover them in at least one direction so they weren’t open to attack on all sides. Call and Aaron shared a look.

“Oh God, please tell me there's another way,” Call started. And Aaron shook his head.

“We’re so close, Call, all we have to do is get a few moments to work away at his heart and then he’ll be dead and we can finally breathe fresh air again.”

As much as he detested the idea, there wasn’t much of another choice. The blonde, who already seemed to be a little weary, had already tried a frontal assault and narrowly escaped with his life. Climbing into his open chest and using Beelzebub’s rotted flesh as a shelter was their best chance. In that way Aaron wouldn’t have to jump either, they would literally be directly in front of his heart. And the flies wouldn’t dare tear apart their own home. 

The longer Call thought about it, the more benefits there seemed to be but as they climbed from the chain onto one his rib-bones and then onto a sickly green piece of flesh, each benefit fell away to nothingness. The stench that permeated the air was all consuming. Walking on his skin made a disgusting squelching sound, dyeing the already tarnished soles of his converse a greenish-blackish sort of colour. But it was really the smell that made the experience dreadful. It made his throat burn as if it was coated with the weird juice that covered his shoes. It took all of his effort to not gag. Aaron looked even worse than himself, and that was saying a lot. His pale skin seemed to have taken on a sickly sort of green colour, and his eyes seemed red and watery.

It was like Beelzebub knew they were taking a turn for the worse and decided to be as unhelpful as possible. He groaned loudly, his body swaying almost as if he was doing his best to shake them off. It also might have been the wall of flies pushing against his body from the outside, but who was Call kidding? They were still flies there was no way they were that smart. 

Aaron fell back onto the lining of Beelzebub’s stomach and Call clung onto a hanging pair of entrails. It wasn’t until Beelzebub’s body came to stop did he realize they were warm and sticky. They pulsed slightly underneath Call’s hand and he couldn’t have been more grateful to let it go. Aaron also began to recover once Beelzebub finished moving. The blonde peeled himself off the wall, a moist yellow sort of mucus clinging to the back of his clothes; Call didn’t want to say anything, but he was pretty sure that "mucus" was the remains of squashed fly eggs. 

"Enough of this! We're ending this now!" Aaron pulled two cards from the inside of his vest. Call frowned deeply. There was something very wrong about those cards… "Call, it's gonna look like there's a lot of burning fire, but they're all holy flames. It won't burn me and you, it'll only burn Beelzebub, so don't freak out."

Aaron didn't wait for him to confirm before he began chanting. Call couldn't understand most of what he said but he thought he caught the words, "mercury" and "salamander". It didn't even matter that Call couldn’t understand him; the blonde’s words held an otherworldly sort of power. His words weren’t so much as a chant as they were a sacred prayer to bless his whip with the power of flame. 

Call took a step backward, completely repulsed. Aaron shouldn’t have those cards, he shouldn’t be _praying_. He should be… Call paused in thought as he watched the starlit-whip erupt with flame. Those weren’t his thoughts nor were they his feelings. 

Orange and gold flames reflected off the green of Aaron’s eyes, consuming everything around him in a fiery haze of sanctified flame. Call thought for a moment about just standing there and letting himself be. Maybe if he believed hard enough, he wouldn’t burn, he would end up just fine like Aaron had said. His moment of indecision evaporated as soon as a gust of heat blew past him. 

He leapt from Beelzebub’s body and onto the middle platform. It was farther than he should have been able to jump, but he was used to his body being able to do impossible things now. The real shock came with his landing. After rolling a few times, he finally came to a stop with his face turned toward the burning corpse. An undeniable sense of sorrow echoed from the bottom most pit of his soul. It was the feeling he had tried to squash earlier, and yet here it was reverberating like a discordant vibration. He felt bad for Beelzebub’s death and he had no idea why.


	28. Haunting Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter I've actually felt is okay since christmas chapter... haha yea these last couple of chapters.... Anyway, more references for those who are look ^^^ Thanks once again for the comments and last but not least something kinda important. So Castlevania kinda has a lot of religious undertones and I think it adds a really good depth to the story so I'm not cutting it but I just want everyone to know I am not aiming to convert/ insult you depending on what you believe. Its all just part of the story so yeah ^^;. Please enjoy and thanks again for the support!! Also this hasn't been edited yet so apologies if you read this before I edit

It was dark behind his shut eyelids. Darker than it should have been. Call watched as shadowy wisps danced across the darkness, swirling together to create forms. It took him a moment to understand the shapes formed a shadowy silhouette. Call blinked and the silhouette in front of him was suddenly coloured. The black walls had been replaced too, by a place far too familiar to him: The highest platform in front of Beelzebub’s face. Only, he was watching from the sidelines. It was someone else standing directly in front of the chained corpse… But this wasn't the Beelzebub Call had seen either, it was a completely different entity. He was most definitely a giant, but he wasn’t rotted; he was beautiful. The giant had flowing locks of warm coloured hair cascading down his back and eyes that shimmered like glowing stars, carrying every colour Call could imagine. He was still chained to the ceiling just as Beelzebub had been, yet his body was strong and he pulled against his bonds causing the entire room to crumble.

“You’ve done this to yourself.” a rich voice said. 

Call tore his attention from the giant and looked at the man who had spoken. He was slender and tall with silver blonde hair that fell over his eyes. His posture appeared to be relaxed, at ease even, but his fists were clenched tightly making his pale skin look practically translucent.

“If you had allied yourself with me, this never would have happened. You see, it wasn’t difficult to obey me  _ Ba’al _ . If you had listened, it might not have cost you anything at all.”

The giant- Ba’al stopped his thrashing and looked at the frail man, his kaleidoscopic eyes flaming. 

“Yet you were no different then the very God that abandoned me… And now you will suffer for it, just as I have suffered,” the man said, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

.

It took Call a moment to realize the silver-haired man was crying. A tear streamed down his chin and splattered against the stone noisy in the suddenly silent room. 

“I curse you Ba’al God of the heavens, from this day forward, the people you call “comrades” will see you and resent you. They will slaughter you generation after generation, thinking they are completing some good deed, but really they will be slaughtering the very deity that summoned them to power…” The silver haired man covered his face with his hand, a cruel smirk stretching across his face, “No longer will you be called God of the Heavens… No, now you will be called “Ba’al Zebub”, lord of the flies. And you will be cursed to hang here for eternity, even when your blood runs dry the flies will still fester within your flesh and you will never forget who you wronged.” 

The man removed his hand from his face, and smiled roguishly. His fangs hung just barely over his colourless lips and Call began to get the feeling he knew who exactly he was watching.

"All of my enemies will tremble when they realize I've taken down a God. No one will dare approach me," He spun on his heeled boots and waved his hand nonchalantly, "Well, go ahead and have at him."

Call watched in horror as millions of maggots crawled up the length of Ba'al's body and began to burrow their tiny bodies into his godly flesh. The giant raised his head and roared painfully. The sound was so shrill it rang in Call's ears long after it had finished.

"You don't wish to stay and watch? This is the most exciting part," A very familiar voice asked, and a younger looking Joseph entered the dream, looking much less intense but just as crazy. "My maggots would be honored if their Lord dare set eyes on them."

The silver-haired man grabbed Joseph by the neck, his eyes flashing crimson.

"I would never take part in such an act!" And then after his flash of anger seemed to cool, he flashed his gaze towards Call, their eyes met. No longer red, his eyes glowed a striking silver hue. "My eyes were never meant to see such a thing."

Darkness overcame his vision once again at the man’s command, only this time Call was rather thankful for it. He had seen enough, thank you very much. He could already feel himself waking from the nightmarish trance, but he kept his eyes shut to try and make sense of it all. 

He had dreamt of the past Dracula. He was sure of it. But why was he, Callum Hunt, dreaming about this guy of all people? Maybe all vampires dreamt of him, but to really know he would have to ask Drew or Joseph. He really wasn’t keen on seeing either of them again although he knew he would eventually have to. For now, he could at least find solace in the complete darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alistair took a step forward and found himself surrounded by the smell of aged paper and melting wax. It seemed after his long trek around the castle, he had finally found himself at the Long Library. Thousands of ancient tomes lined the marble walls, awaiting some scholar to pore over their pages and discover all of the hidden secrets within. Flickering candle light illuminated the area, casting eerie shadows across the walls and the whisper of hushed footsteps could be heard throughout the library, despite the fact he was the only occupant with feet that could make such sounds. Alistair took a moment to bathe in the familiarity of it all. Unlike the other rooms of the castle, the library seemed to be an exact replica of the one he remembered. 

He took one more step forward and felt a small smile tug on his lips as the familiar ring of harpsichord rang out across the room. A Dullahan sat, its fingers dancing over the black keys even though it had no eyes to read to the sheet-music, nor did it have ears to listen to it. So why did it play? Alistair had asked Constantine that very question when the blonde had first taken him to this room, he had wondered why violent things such as monsters decided to take part in something as mundane as playing music. No matter how much fear, remorse, or hate he had held for the previous Dracula could make him forget his response. 

“They may seem like just monsters to you Alistair, but I’ve pulled each one out of Hell knowing their crimes. Yes, they’ve been cursed, yes they've been denied by their very maker, but does that really deny them the right to a second chance? I don’t think it does.” 

“So they play because they have a second chance at life? That wasn’t really the answer I was looking for, Constantine.” Alistair had said, and Constantine had laughed then. He laughed carefreely, throwing his head back and letting his silver hair fall to disarray. It was almost as if his brother hadn’t died months before, as if Alistair was the only other person in the world. 

“What I meant,  _ Alistair _ , is that the “monsters” are just like us. They fight when they need to, and enjoy the time they have freely. The Dullahans enjoy playing music, and the Skeletons enjoy preparing food and drink. I could go on and on about all the different hobbies of my subjects, but really, I think my point is made.” Constantine looked away then, his silver eyes growing distant. “There is only one real monster out there, and he doesn’t reside in this castle.”

Alistair had stared at him then. There wasn't another person he had ever felt closer to than Constantine, yet at the same time there wasn't another person he could feel farther away from than him either. 

Thinking back on the conversation, he really should have been able to see the start to Constantine’s madness, but he had been completely blinded until it was far too late to change anything. All he was left to do was think back on his many mistakes and the million different ways they could have played out. 

After walking further in, he collapsed onto a worn armchair pulled directly opposite of a table covered with a myriad of scrolls, parchment, and unshelved books. If he was lucky, he would find some lead to Joseph’s plans within the pile of miscellaneous items. If he was unlucky...he would find a child's drawing of what looked to be a colourful horse drawn completely with crayon and adorned with what looked like cheeto-encrusted fingerprints.. Alistair stared at the oddly specific drawing, trying to understand whatever hidden meaning was locked within, but he couldn't decipher anything from it. It looked like something Call would have brought home in fifth grade.

He shook his head, tiredly and turned his attention to more important texts. The top layer of books were spell books, old ones that looked as if they hadn't been pulled from their respective shelves in decades, if ever. Alistair flipped through it leisurely and paused as he came upon a hastily bookmarked page, his eyes scrolling through the inky letters in search of anything of importance. His glasses had been shattered a long while ago, and now trying to read without them was proving a rather difficult task. Maybe he could find a magnifying glass.

“Hey! Who are you?!” an annoyingly squeaky voice asked, and Alistair took a moment to realize he was being spoken to. 

A short boy, that looked to be about Call’s age, had appeared and sat fuming just across the table from him. He really wasn't sure why the boy was so indignant, but who knew, maybe his day was going just as bad as Alistair’s. Though, he now knew who to credit the drawing to. 

“You must be Joseph’s son.” He replied, before casting his gaze back down to the book. It was easy for him to determine that fact because he was practically looking at a younger softer version of the man himself. The biggest difference between the two were their eyes. Joseph’s eyes seemed soulless, like he had seen all there was in the world and now he was just about ready to eradicate the entire thing. The kid, well, he seemed lively enough.

The boy looked shocked for a moment before a proud smile stretched across his young face, “It seems my reputation exceeds me.” and then it fell off his face as he realized Alistair’s attention was no longer on him. “Seeing as you know about my overall awesomeness, I think you shoul-”

“Your reputation  _ precedes  _ you,” the older man corrected and then he swiped a hand over his eyes to clear his blurring vision. Reading without his glasses left the words as undecipherable as egyptian hieroglyphics. If he stared long enough, the scribbles would turn to words, but he barely had the attention span for that at the moment. On the other hand he had a much better chance at getting information off the kid in front of him instead. For some reason, the idea exhausted him ten times more than walking around the whole castle for the past week without stopping or resting whatsoever. He was probably going a little crazy. 

“Ugh! Whatever! Just get out of here you weird sleazy ghost man, that is  _ my  _ seat! Look on the back of the chair!” and Alistair did look. A piece of paper hung on the back of the seat, it read what he assumed to be the boy’s name, “Drew”. It was written in the same bright coloured crayons as the pony. His penmanship was nearly undecipherable, but luckily he had no problem reading it thanks to his experience as a father.

“Hi, Drew I’m-”

“It’s  _ Lord  _ Drew!” the boy exclaimed, angrily marching towards him. “Now if you don’t move right now, I swear I’m gonna disperse your soul and it’ll take years before you can form again and it’ll be even longer before you think you can sit in my chair again!!”

Alistair made quite the show of scooting backwards, almost in the same manner someone who was leaving the chair would take, and then spent a ridiculous amount of time crossing his legs and shifting to the side. Drew’s face reddened as he mistook Alistair’s action for smugness, but it only took a moment for his real intentions to show through and the boy’s face paled considerably. He had taken his time adjusting his position so he could show off the weapon on his hip: Vampire Killer. 

“I thought you were- But how did you- I thought people couldn’t-” Drew visibly panicked, spluttering a multitude of questions Alistair couldn't hope to keep up with. He stuttered a few moments more before deciding on the most important question. “Are you gonna kill me?”

Alistair looked at his face and noticed how scared the boy seemed just after having seen Vampire Killer. Since he wasn't a Belmont, Alistair couldn’t actually use the fated whip, but just having it on him seemed to silence him. 

“Mmmh, not sure,” Alistair said, observing the boy carefully. Drew paled even more at his vague response. His hands shook at his sides and he looked as if he desperately wanted to run away, yet he stood stock still awaiting the older man’s move. Alistair genuinely wondered why he didn't run away. 

“My dad has a lot of money- a- actually, I have magic artifacts too, you could have them. O- or I know some people, they could get you stuff- like stuff you want!” the boy explained. His previous confident air had completely fallen away, leaving him as the vulnerable kid Alistair had expected. It was sad really.

“I’m not interested in any of that.” 

“So then what  _ do  _ you want from me?” he asked 

Alistair shrugged and replied coolly, “Lets talk.”

Drew didn't seem to like his answer too much, and the two stared at each other silently. Alistair had to remember to not scare the boy too much. His only intention was getting the information he needed so he had ought to open the conversation somewhat delicately. 

“You do know your father is planning to kill you, don’t you?”

Sarah would have hit him for opening with something like that. Constantine probably would have laughed. Drew looked completely horrified for a second, but he quickly hid his emotions with an angry grimace. Alistair had only heard bits and pieces of Joseph’s plans when he had been stuck in prison; he had hoped he had heard wrong when this certain detail had slipped, yet Drew’s expression only proved it. 

“I know what my own dad is planning! I’m not stupid!” Drew exclaimed, suddenly angry again. It was the last confirmation Alistair needed before he pushed forward with his original line of thought. 

“And you’re okay with that? You’re okay with dying? Because you really didn't seem that okay with it a few seconds ago.” 

Drew’s bottom lip wobbled dangerously and his brows furrowed, but his gaze never wavered. He glared at Alistair with as much hate as he could muster.

“Why don’t you just kill me and then we’ll both find out! You’ll get what you want, and I’ll-” Drew’s voice cracked and he snapped his mouth shut completely mortified. Alistair knew his silence didn't stem from embarrassment.

“I don’t want to kill you. In fact, I haven’t even thought about it once. I asked you all those questions to gauge your feelings.” Drew’s lips turned to a thin grim line but he said nothing so Alistair continued on. “I’ve met a lot of different sorts of people, both good and bad, but out of them all the one that stood out to me the most was Constantine.”

Drew gasped right in time which couldn't help but remind Alistair that he really was dealing with a child. He barely needed any forethought to come up with statements that impressed the boy. 

“No matter what came up against him, he was always able to somehow make it through. When he was told to abandon his research about vampires or die, he refused both and instead made his own path. He might have been crazy, but the guy never failed to carry out what he wanted done… Even up to his death.” Alistair cleared his throat, swallowing back some of the memories he hadn't meant to resurface. “I bring all of that up to ask you this: What will you do now? Unlike Connie, you don’t have to find your path alone. If you're willing to try and live, then I’ll be here to help you through it but I’ll need you to help me out too, and tell me what exactly Joseph is planning.” 

For the first time since he had met him, Drew’s face seemed, not as downcast- dare he say -hopeful. It flickered away as a thought seemed to cross his mind.

“I can’t be saved, I’m already a vampire.”

Alistair motioned for the boy to come stand next to him and Drew stared at him like he was crazy. When he motioned again, the boy hesitantly took a few steps before he reached his side.

“Read this spell out loud,” The older man directed, pointing to a certain line on the bookmarked page of the book. 

Drew peered over his shoulder. “Sanctuary: An advanced spell that cures status abnormalities for all within range, including vampirism,” the boy stared at Alistair’s face for a moment, completely ecstatic, “I can be saved!” and then he seemed to remember who he had been talking to and he scurried backwards quickly, a suspicious look crossing his face. “Why’re you even helping me?” 

“A long time ago I was supposed to tell another vampire something like this, but I was too late… In the end I lost him so here I am trying not to make the same mistake.” 

“Who are  _ you _ ?” he asked once again. Then without waiting for his response he followed up with another question quickly, “Wait- are you- are you God??”

Alistair would have choked if he hadn't been able to quickly recover with a dry chuckle. The things kids said sometimes.

“No, I’m nothing more than a miserable pile of secrets…”


End file.
